The Odd Couple
by a blurred someday
Summary: “Remember when you started dating the jackass who had been nothing but cruel to you for a whole year? Well, I’m not even dating my jackass.” Sequel to the Great Graffiti Caper, MaDi and LoVe.
1. Here's the Thing

Veronica steepled her fingers and stared down the person sitting across from her with all the skill her years as a teenaged detective had given her. It was clear she was planning to crack this one if it took everything she had.

"Okay," Veronica said. "I asked you to come here today because I have some questions that need answering."

Mac sat across from Veronica with her arms crossed, looking unimpressed.

"Veronica, I'm not one of your perps. If you want to ask me something, just do it," she said, looking around the diner for their waitress.

"Fine. Why are you friends with Dick?"

"Why are you friends with Wallace?" Mac replied without missing a beat.

"I cut him down from a flagpole, we bonded."

"Dick found me when I was kidnapped. We bonded."

They had a short stare-off, and then Mac sighed. Six weeks earlier, Dick had saved Mac from the unwelcome advances of her ex-boyfriend's ex-girlfriend's madam's lackey. They had grown close since then, something Mac knew bothered Veronica. It looked like it was time for them to talk it out. Mac opened her mouth but Veronica cut in.

"Look, Mac," she said. "I know you don't have to explain yourself to me, but I was hoping you could give me some sort of logic, so that it'll be easier for me to see you guys together. Maybe if you tell me some of the things you like about him, I can start to respect him—or, at least, not disrespect him. I don't want our relationship to suffer because of your friendship with Dick."

Mac was looking at Veronica, her eyebrows raised. "Wow. When did you get so girly? You never talk about feelings and relationships and all that crap."

Veronica waved her hand dismissively. "I've been hanging out with Logan—he's trying to teach me to be more communicative."

"Hanging out with Logan, eh?" Mac said with a suggestive smile. "And has he done any 'feeling,' himself?"

A stern look from Veronica silenced her. "Don't change the subject. And don't talk about Logan feeling himself."

They both giggled. Veronica sobered first.

"So. You and Dick. Explain, please."

Mac sighed. "What do you want me to say? We hang out. I like talking to him."

"Why?" Veronica asked, genuinely perplexed.

"He's funny, and he's honest, and he's almost always in a good mood. He's fun to be around, and he wants me to be safe. Did the whole, 'he found me when I was kidnapped' thing escape your notice?"

"Huh. I was not expecting so many legitimate reasons."

"Well, I could do better but I forgot my PowerPoint presentation at home," Mac said. "Look, you trust Logan's judgment, right? Dick and Logan have been friends forever. Yeah, Dick has questionable moments, but he's nothing if not loyal."

"Just like a collie," Veronica said with faux enthusiasm.

"Being loyal isn't a bad thing," Mac answered. "It's actually a pretty great thing."

Veronica thought for a minute. "So you're not hanging out with Dick because it makes you feel closer to Cassidy?"

Mac frowned. "The only thing Cassidy has to do with this is that his death made Dick think a lot about the way he treated the people around him. It also made me appreciate how open Dick is. He doesn't keep secrets—I'm not sure he's even physically capable of it."

Veronica sat back in her seat. "Well, you've presented a rational and thought-out argument. I'm impressed. B+."

"B+?" Mac asked, looking offended. "I am an A student."

"Yeah, but it's still Dick we're talking about."

Mac smiled. "So, are we done with the talky talk? Can we actually get some coffee now? I'm exhausted."

"Have your professors gone all Mrs. Tingle on your ass, too?"

"No, my classes are okay. I was up late playing video games."

"With Dick?"

"Yeah."

Veronica smiled evilly. "So he met your parents then. How did that go?"

Mac frowned. "¿Qué?"

"Well I was at the suite last night, and Dick wasn't there, so that leads me to believe you were at your house. Is there a flaw in that logic?"

Mac was twisting her fingers nervously. "Well, sort of…" She sighed. She was really not looking forward to this conversation. "Okay, as you know, I was planning on living at home this year, because you weren't going to be living on campus either, and I obviously couldn't room in the dorm with Wallace, and I really didn't want to take another chance with a random roommate—I mean Parker turned out to be okay, but knowing my luck I would get put with some crazy chick who doesn't believe in technology, or eats babies or something."

Veronica was nodding. "Yes, like you said, I did know all that. You're not one for run-ons, Mac, so what's the deal?"

"Well, I'm not living at home anymore."

"Did you get another place?" Veronica asked. "Where is it? How can you afford off-campus housing?"

Mac was frowning, trying to figure out what to tell Veronica first. Before she could speak, Veronica kept going.

"Wait, why haven't I seen this place? Or even heard about it? And Dick has seen it?"

Mac took a deep breath. "Yeah, well…it's sort of…his place."

Veronica didn't move or speak. Mac wasn't entirely sure she was still breathing. Mac leaned over and waved a hand in front of Veronica's face. A second later, Veronica blinked.

"I'm sorry, it appears I had an absent seizure. Did you just say you're living with Dick?"

Mac put her hands on the table, palms facing down. "Yeah, I'm living with Dick, but you don't have the whole story. We're just friends. Do you think you can remain calm while I tell you everything?"

"Wait, you're sharing Dick's room at the Grand, yet you still claim to be just friends? Tell me another one."

"Not at the Grand. We weren't there last night, remember? Dick hasn't been sleeping there for a while, he just doesn't know how to tell Logan he moved out."

Veronica put her head in her hands. "This is twisted. Seriously, Mac, what is going on here? Are we in Bizzaro World?"

Mac rubbed her left eye and took a sip of the coffee their waitress had just brought over. "Okay," she said. "We haven't been living together for very long. After Dick came and got me that time, we started hanging out more. Then it just sort of happened."

"And how does something like this just happen?"

Next Chapter: How Something Like This Happens

A/N: Hello all! Here's the sequel to one of my Mac/Dick stories, the Great Graffiti Caper. This is going to be a lengthy story, which will move more slowly than its predecessor and detail how Mac and Dick's relationship develops. I hope you enjoy it, and I'd love to hear what you think of it! Sorry this chapter breaks off at a funny point, but otherwise it would have been way too long. The next chapter will show how the two came to live together, and soon after that, crazy roommate fun will commence. Also, unfortunately, I don't own any of the characters from Veronica Mars. Happy reading and happy New Year!


	2. How Something Like This Happens

_Three weeks earlier…_

"So what'd you think?" Mac asked Dick as they walked toward Dick's truck.

"Gratuitous violence and special effects that would put any one of Logan's dad's movies to shame? Safe to say I enjoyed myself. What about you?"

"I thought the dialogue was decent, and there weren't glaring plot holes like in most action movies nowadays," Mac said. Dick hopped into the driver's seat and Mac pulled herself up into the passenger side. "And, I liked that they didn't focus too much on the romance. It would have weakened the plot."

"Yeah, well, as a general rule, I say that romance just mixes things up. No need for it, in my opinion."

"How sentimental," Mac said.

"Keep things simple," Dick said. "That's my motto."

"Mine is 'Make 7 Up Yours.'"

Dick laughed as he pulled out of the movie theater parking lot. "Alright, where to? Want me to drop you off at home?"

"I don't know," Mac said, looking out the window and shrugging.

"Okay, then let's just go kick it somewhere for a while."

"Your gangstaphrenic white-boy jargon aside, that sounds like a good plan."

Half an hour later, Mac was lying on her back in the truck bed, looking at the sky. Dick was sitting next to her feet, his legs hanging off the end of the truck as he watched the occasional couple or group of friends make their way down the beach.

"You want a beer?" Dick asked.

Mac thought for a second. "No, thanks," she said.

"Why not?"

"No real reason," she said. "Is there any reason you feel like having one?"

"No. Habit, I guess," Dick said with a frown. "But, uh, lemme check, I think I have a few Cokes."

He crawled past Mac to reach through the back window and pull a mini cooler from the backseat.

"You have a monogrammed cooler?" Mac asked. "I should be surprised, but somehow I'm not."

"Nothing but the best for me and my beverages. Ah!" he said as he pulled out two sodas. He sat down next to Mac and handed her one. They were both quiet for a minute until, without looking over at her, Dick said, "I want you to know I'm not drinking so much anymore."

"I'm glad," she said. "It can't have been good for your liver."

He nodded, the serious look on his face something Mac was unaccustomed to seeing. "For a while," he said haltingly, "I felt like I had to be out of it 24/7, because there was nothing else good in my life."

"Oh, Dick…" Mac said consolingly.

"What?" he said, finally looking at her.

"Oh. I have no follow-up. It just felt like the right thing to say."

Dick gave her a half-smile and shook his head.

"So tell me something, Mackie," he said. "Why did you choose to live at home if you don't like it there?"

"I don't know. I really don't. I love my family, but I've felt so out of place there for so long..."

"Because they're not really your family?"

* * *

"Whoa. Throw it in reverse here for a minute," Veronica said. "You told him about the hospital switch?" 

"Yes," Mac said matter-of-factly. "And I don't regret it. Well, I guess I did a little when he realized he's had sex with the real Cindy Mackenzie. That got old fast. But other than that, I stand by my decision to tell him. Now if you don't mind, I'm in the middle of a story.

* * *

"I guess," Mac said. "But what really bothers me about the whole thing is that I'm in college now, but it seems like nothing has changed since high school. And the irony that I live at home now basically because I still only hang out with my high school friends has not escaped me." 

She took a sip of her soda and some of it spilled down her cheek and trickled past her ear.

They were both quiet for a while, looking at the clear, starry sky and listening to the waves tumbling onto the sand.

"Hey, do you remember that time this summer when you and Wallace came to that party at that guy J.D.'s place and I was sort of a mess and you yelled at me?" Dick asked.

"I'm surprised you remember it."

"Nobody ever talks to me like that," Dick said in explanation.

"Sorry about that," Mac said.

He shrugged. "Once I looked up Peter Pan Syndrome the next day, I realized you were right about a lot of what you said. So, I've been trying to be more mature, you know, a little more adulterated."

Mac nodded, making sure to keep a straight face, because he seemed to be serious about what he was saying. "I have noticed that," she said. "And I'm sorry I called you Eloise at the Plaza."

"That's what I'm trying to say," Dick said. "I'm not Eloise anymore."

"I never really thought you were Eloise," Mac said with a smirk.

"I'm being all metaphorical and stuff, Mac, will you pay attention?"

"Okay, I'm listening. How are you metaphorically not Eloise anymore?"

"I bought a house."

Mac bolted upright, her flailing legs tipping over her Coke can in the process.

"What?"

* * *

"What?!"

* * *

"Yeah," Dick said, turning to face her fully. "Don't worry, I did a bunch of research. It's an investment, as Big Dick would say."

Her mouth still slightly open, Mac checked his face for any signs that he was kidding, but he was, as always, totally guileless.

"So anyway, I was thinking," he said. "You wanna move in?"

Mac stared, unable to say a thing even as soda seeped into her jeans.

"What?" she finally asked. "What?"

"I was thinking you might react like that," Dick said. "So I made up a list of reasons why you should come be my roommate."

"You made a list?" Mac repeated in a faint voice.

"Yeah, you ready?" Dick asked, pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of his back pocket. "Okay, number seven."

"Seven?"

"Seven: the house is too big for just me. I'm a sensitive soul, and I get lonely."

Mac rolled her eyes.

"Number six: I would be a good roommate—I'd open jars for you and get things off of high shelves."

Mac rolled her eyes with enthusiasm.

"Number five: Xbox and wi-fi, enough said. Number four: Logan says you're a good influence on me. Except for the time I shot that guy, I haven't gotten in any fights since we became friends, and I also haven't blacked out once since then."

"That is true," Mac said.

"Number two: it would be cheap. Number one: you wouldn't be living with your mom and dad anymore, but you could still visit them anytime." She opened her mouth but Dick quickly added, "And number zero, we'd have a lot of fun."

Mac waited a moment to be sure he was done, then said, "You skipped number three."

Dick consulted his list.

"Huh, you're right. Okay, move number seven to six and make six three."

Mac leaned back against the side of the truck bed and looked up, thinking about what he'd said. After a few minutes she looked back down at him.

"How cheap?" she asked.

Dick grinned at her and she couldn't keep herself from grinning back.

* * *

Next Chapter: Love Notes 


	3. Love Notes

In the diner, Veronica waved over their waitress.

"Times like these call for pie," she said.

"Times like these?" Mac echoed.

"Times like when one of your BFFs tells you she moved in with your sworn enemy," she explained.

"Veronica," Mac said. "You have foiled the unseemly plots of some of Neptune's most badass residents, yet you're still claiming Dick as your sworn enemy?"

"What? I can have more than one."

Mac sighed. "Look, I know that Dick has done some pretty douchey things in the past, and a lot of times he was just downright mean, but he's trying to change."

"I know," Veronica said. "And I'm trying to let go of all that stuff. Look at me, I'm cleansing, I'm letting go, I'm accepting," she said, taking in a few deep breaths. Her eyes lit up when the waitress brought the large piece of pie to the table.

Veronica dug in and then paused after a few bites and raised her eyebrows at Mac, who was not moving to eat any of the pie.

Mac shook her head. "No, no. I can barely look at anything sugary right now. Dick discovered the wonders of Costco and now we have enough junk food to fuel the all-nighters of the entire freshman class."

"Okay, I'm not accepting," Veronica said, putting her fork down. "I'm sorry, but tales of you and Dick and domesticity? Seriously throwing me off my game."

"How do you think I feel? One minute I'm fighting to keep my little brother out of my room, the next minute I'm living with Dick in Malibu Barbie's beach house."

"_That's_ what's different, you're tan!"

Mac shook her head at Veronica. "You call yourself a detective."

"Don't judge, I was thrown off by the new purple streaks. Oh, and by you sharing a domicile with el Diablo."

Mac set her mouth in a thin line. "Okay, I didn't want to play this card, but you're forcing my hand. Remember when you started dating that guy who everyone thought was a total jackass and who had been nothing but cruel to you for a whole year? Well, I'm not even dating my jackass."

Veronica went back to her pie without another word.

When the pie was gone, Veronica asked for the check and turned to Mac thoughtfully.

"I have a question. Why did Dick ask you? Why not Logan?" she asked.

"He said he thought living with Logan would enable his bad habits and impede him on his quest for self-actualization." Veronica raised an eyebrow and Mac shrugged. "There was this self-help book my mom got me…"

"Ah," Veronica said archly.

"And speaking of my mom, she wanted your number, so if she calls, just tell her I'm an excellent roommate."

"Excellent roommate. Check," Veronica said with a weary sigh.

"You want to see the place?" Mac asked.

"Well, normally I'm not the curious type…" Veronica said, and Mac rolled her eyes and headed for the door.

Mac's Beetle wound up the road that ran along one of the most elite beaches in Neptune Heights. The ocean lay just beyond the row of houses to her right. She checked the rearview mirror to be sure Veronica was still behind her, then pulled into the driveway of one of the nicer homes on the street. Dick's car wasn't there, which made her relax a little. Dick greeting them at the door with some inappropriate comment would probably reverse any headway she'd made with Veronica today.

Veronica pulled her car up in front of the house, and sat for a minute, taking in the large building in front of her. Most of the houses on the street were painted in neutral colors, but this house was a cheerful shade of blue with a white door and white trim around the large windows on the front of the house. Mac's car was parked in front of the two-car garage. Veronica walked across the wide, lush lawn to join her.

"Not too shabby," she told Mac. "I mean, for undergraduate housing."

"I'm just glad it's not in a gated community. I feel dirty enough living here as it is."

"How much has Dick got you paying for rent? I mean, if you don't mind me asking."

Mac blushed. "It's kind of paltry." She told Veronica her rent and Veronica looked at her in disbelief.

"Mac, that's like what Dick spends on beer and new video games in a month."

"Which is exactly how we arrived at that sum," Mac answered. She shrugged and continued, "He really wanted me to live here, and he said he had the money stuff covered, but if I wanted to help out I could give him some walking around money."

"Well he won't get very far," Veronica said.

"He could have gotten more, but he doesn't know how to haggle," Mac said. "Come on," she said, motioning toward the house.

Mac opened the front door and showed Veronica inside. The stairs were directly in front of them, and to the left was the living room. To the right, there was the dining room, and past that, the kitchen. The upstairs consisted of a large loft, with several doors opening onto a landing that overlooked the downstairs.

"Well, this answers the question of where we'll throw that massive sorority sleepover we've always talked about having," Veronica said. "This place is humongous. And really well-decorated."

"Well, it came with most of the furniture. We mostly just put in the stuff upstairs. And a few touches here and there down here."

Veronica walked into the kitchen, where a whiteboard stuck to the fridge read, 'Dick— pick up some groceries, dammit.'

"I can see that," she said.

Mac followed her gaze and shrugged. "He seems to respond well to notes. C'mon, I'll show you upstairs," she said as she headed up the stairs. First she showed Veronica the bathroom directly at the top of the stairs.

"You use this bathroom?" Veronica asked, trying to be polite and mask her horror at the mess.

Mac giggled. "No. We tried sharing a bathroom for a while, but it threatened to break up the band. My bathroom's down the hall."

To the right was Dick's room, and to the left of the bathroom was Mac's room. Veronica walked around the large bedroom, noticing that although Mac hadn't gotten around to unpacking her boxes, her art collection was even more impressive now than it had been in her room at home. Veronica made her way to the far side of the room and swung open the French doors, then stepped out onto the balcony.

"Holy frak," she said.

"Yeah."

"Mac, this view is unbelievable," she said, looking out over the wide expanse of beach. "Exactly how much did Dick pay for this place?"

"He wouldn't tell me, but he swears he got a deal."

Mac's room and Dick's room both opened up onto the balcony, and Veronica walked down to Dick's door and peered in through the glass.

"Hm, nothing out of the ordinary here," she said. "A couple beer bottles—fewer than I'd expect, actually—pile of porn, unmade bed and some dirty underwear. Yep. This is a college guy's room."

They heard the sound of a car door slamming, then, and a second later the sound of the front door opening.

"Mackie?" Dick called.

"We're upstairs," Mac answered.

Dick came up the stairs and sauntered into Mac's room as Veronica reentered from the balcony. "Roomie, Ronnie," he said, nodding to them jovially. "How's it going?"

"I'm just giving Veronica the tour."

"You show her the master bedroom yet?" Dick asked.

"Oh, I thought—" Veronica pointed toward Dick's room. "Don't you live in there?"

"Yeah," Dick said. "C'mon, you gotta see the best part of the house."

The three of them walked out of Mac's room and further down the hall, to the room that sat over the garage. Dick flung open the double doors and Veronica saw a huge bedroom with a raised section in the far corner, clearly meant for the bed. Instead, Mac and Dick had chosen to reserve that spot for an enormous television with every gaming system known to man hooked up to it.

"Isn't it awesome?" Dick asked. "Look, we got the mini-fridge set up over here, and the bathroom—there's no reason to ever leave! And the couch is the perfect distance from the TV: not so close that your eyes hurt after marathons, but close enough that you don't really mind having to get up to switch games."

Veronica looked at Mac, who nodded. "It's true," she said. "We tested a bunch of different spots, and this is the best one."

"Here, try it," Dick said, leading Veronica over to the couch.

"Very nice," she said. "As couches go, this one's a potato's dream. Aah!" Veronica let out a yelp as Dick pulled the lever on the side of the couch and she went flying backward.

"Pretty sweet, right?" Dick said.

"Can I get up now?" Veronica asked. Dick righted the seat and Veronica quickly stood up and straightened her clothes.

"And each side reclines separately, so if I'm in the mood for being reclinical, but Mac's not, no problem!"

Veronica nodded at him gravely. "Modern advancements are truly amazing."

Dick nodded back before turning to Mac. "Hey, did you Tivo _Entourage_?" When Mac said yes, he pumped his fists and pointed at her, saying, "You're a rock star. Halo?"

Mac started to shake her head, gesturing to Veronica.

"Actually, Mac," Veronica said. "I'm going to get going."

"Are you sure? We can watch a movie or something," she said.

"No, play your game, have fun. But can I use your bathroom before I go?"

"Yeah, sure," Mac said. "It's right there."

Veronica entered the master bathroom suite and looked around incredulously.

"Way to get yourself the Taj Mahal of bathrooms, Mac," she said quietly. She stood between the double sinks and the full shower, then peeked around the corner and saw a Jacuzzi tub. She smirked when she spotted a post-it on the cabinet beneath the sink that read 'Dick—Don't go through my stuff.'

A minute later she walked out of the bathroom. Mac started to get up, but Veronica waved her back down. "Sit, I'll let myself out."

"Bye, Ronnie," Dick said from the couch. "Stop by anytime. Oh!" he said suddenly. "If you could just not tell Logan that I'm not his roommate anymore, that would be awesome."

Veronica looked at Mac, who shrugged, then back at Dick. She sighed. "You got it, Dick. Mum's the word. I'll see you later, Mac."

She headed toward the door, and just before she slipped out she observed Mac and Dick pull their couch levers in unison, letting out identical sighs of contentment at their new reclining positions.

"So did I ever tell you about the time I ran over my foot?" she heard Dick ask as she headed down the hallway. Veronica shook her head as she descended the stairs, thinking that some things were too weird for her to ever really understand.

Next Chapter: The Beast Tamed


	4. The Beast Tamed

Dick woke up the next day earlier than he would have liked, especially since Mac had roped him into a gaming session that lasted into the early morning hours. It sort of wasn't her fault—Dick liked to end a series with a win, and that took a while when he played Mac. Girl had skills.

He lay in bed, debating whether he wanted to get up. After a few minutes his stomach growled.

"Good point," he said to his midsection. He sat up in bed and stretched his arms over his head, groaning as the muscles in his back loosened. He ran his hands through his hair and then wandered downstairs to find Mac reading on the couch.

"What's for breakfast, woman?" he asked, scratching his stomach.

Mac spared him a glance. "The kid from next door brought over some muffins his mom made. And could you please try to put a shirt on before you leave your room?"

Dick shuffled into the kitchen to grab a muffin from the countertop. "I like not wearing a shirt," he called. "It's comfortable. I really encourage you to try it. Speaking of scanty clothing," he said as he rejoined Mac, "what are you wearing tonight?"

"I don't know, I'll find something," Mac said. "Halloween's not really my thing."

"Yeah, well, remember what I said."

"I'm not going as a belly dancer, Dick."

"Why not? You totally have the sweet hips for it."

Mac put a finger in her book to hold her page and looked over at him. "I think you should go tell Logan about the house today," she said.

"But it's Saturday," Dick said.

"So?"

"Saturday is a fun day. I figured I'd tell him on a crappy day, like a Tuesday or something. Plus I don't want to ruin his mood for the party tonight."

"Look, I'm sure he's not even going to care, but he should hear it from you. And it's not going to matter to him what day you tell him."

Dick narrowed his eyes at her. "Fine," he said, standing up and heading back to his room. "But when he gets mad, I'm telling him it was all your idea, _Cindy_."

"Sounds like a plan, Richard."

"Shut up," he said.

"_You_ shut up," he heard her call after him. As he climbed the stairs he tried to stay annoyed with her, but found he couldn't fight off the small smile that twisted his mouth to one side.

An hour later, he walked in the door of Logan's suite. He saw his friend sitting on the couch, doing something on his computer.

"Hey," Logan said. "I was wondering when I'd be seeing you."

"What are you talking about?" Dick said nonchalantly, edging toward his old room as he quickly lost his resolve. "I just went out for a while…"

"Dude, I know you moved out," Logan said.

"What? How? Did Ronnie tell you?"

"No. How would she know?"

"Mac had her over yesterday to see the place."

Logan swung his legs off the couch and stood up. "Why am I suddenly getting the feeling that I'm missing a vital piece of information?"

Dick looked at his friend appraisingly. "What do you know?"

Logan crossed his arms over his chest. "I know you don't live here anymore," he said. "It wasn't that hard to figure out. All your stuff is gone." Dick nodded, silently conceding that his move-out hadn't been the height of stealth. "I thought that you had just moved into the Pi Sig house, but now I'm starting to rethink that assumption."

Dick shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. "Actually, uh…I bought a house over on Shoreview, and me and Mac live there now."

Logan's face remained blank for a second or two, and then he started laughing. Logan's laugh for the past few months had been a short, sarcastic bark, but this laugh was long and loud, and it was a relief to Dick's ears, even though he felt a little affronted.

"What, you don't believe me?" he asked.

"No, I do, that's what's funny," Logan said. "You and I have both been domesticated by little girls."

"Domesticated?" Dick repeated.

"De-clawed, housebroken, tamed, whatever. Mac and Veronica should start a business, they're like the Jackass Whisperers."

"Dude, I don't know what you're talking about. I do what I want, when I want."

"Like move out of here to live with the little missus?"

"She's not my little anything, and she doesn't control what I do," Dick said. "I'm a wild stallion, baby," he told Logan, his arms spread out on either side. He let them drop lamely when he realized that he was there at that moment because Mac had sent him.

"Don't worry about it, dude, it was bound to happen sooner or later," Logan said, going back to his computer. "Hey, you're coming tonight, right?"

Dick just looked at his friend for a minute with a frown on his face. "Whatever, man. Maybe you're whipped, but I'm still a free agent." With that he turned and walked out of his former home, even though he didn't really feel like going to his new one. Instead he stopped by the Pi Sig house, but he left when some of the brothers started asking him where he'd been and how many points he'd racked up that semester so far. He drove then to the stretch of beach where he'd told Mac about the house. He sat in the truck bed and this time he did have a beer.

A few hours later he stomped back into the house and up to his room. He pulled on his stripper costume without ceremony. He heard a noise and looked up to see Mac leaning against the doorframe. She took in his undone bowtie and his black pants and white shirt, both with gaps on the sides that made it obvious they were tear-aways.

"I thought you were going to wear a costume," she said with a smirk.

He just grunted and grabbed his wallet off the dresser. The smile left her face.

"Dick?" she said. "You okay?"

He just mumbled something and brushed past her and down the stairs.

"Roomie?" he heard her say as he walked out the front door. He immediately felt guilty, but he didn't turn back. When he got in his truck, he put his head down on the steering wheel. Logan was right. He was practically a soccer mom, and it was all because of Mac.

He couldn't help it. Ever since he got her back from those creepo prostitute peddlers, his new mission in life had been to get her to smile. Without meaning to he had rigged a point system in his head. Smirk: 10 points. Grin: 20 points. Genuine, delighted, 1,000-watt smile: 50 points. The last was the hardest to come by, but the payoff was so worth the effort. When she smiled like that, she looked exactly like she had in the kindergarten picture that sat on the desk in her room. When she smiled like that, he felt like he could do no wrong.

Next Chapter: Knight in Shining Stripper Pants


	5. Knight in Shining Stripper Pants

After twisting her hair into two long braids, Mac emerged from Veronica's bathroom to see her friend pulling on a lavender wig.

"Hey, I thought I was the purple-haired one in this partnership."

"Tonight, we share that distinction," Veronica said as she straightened her fake hair.

"And what, exactly, are you supposed to be?" Mac asked. Along with the wig, Veronica was wearing a simple pink dress with a cloth butterfly pinned to her hip, and purple gems stuck around her eyes. She grinned at Mac as she broke out into song.

"Where will you wander? Hither and yonder, letting your heart be your guide! My Little Pony, My Little Pony, I'll be there right by your side!" Veronica finished with a flourish and turned around so that Mac could see a purple tail attached to the back of her dress.

"Wow," Mac said. "Just…wow. Are you going to sing like that all night?"

"No," Veronica said dreamily. "When a boy knows what I'm supposed to be without having to ask, that's how I'll know he's special."

"Oh, he'll be special all right," Mac teased.

"Don't hate," Veronica said with a smirk.

"Hey, these shoes are hurting me already," Mac said. "Do you have any other ones I could wear?"

Veronica dug a pair of black flats out of her closet and handed them to Mac.

"Thanks. Should we get going?" Mac asked as she slipped on the shoes. She looked up to see Veronica studying her with a frown.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Veronica asked. "You're looking more than a little gloomy. If you thought dressing up as Wednesday Addams would give you license to frown all night, you were mistaken, my friend."

Mac looked down at her black shirtdress and fiddled with her sleeve. "Sorry," she told Veronica. "Dick was acting really weird earlier. I'm worried that he's mad at me for making him tell Logan he moved out."

"I'm sure he's not mad," Veronica said, but Mac shook her head.

"He seemed really out of sorts when I saw him. And he only came back to the house to get his costume."

"Do I even want to know what he's going as tonight?" Veronica asked.

Mac let a small smile cross her face. "A stripper. I made a joke about it, but he just mumbled something about being a stallion and took off."

"Uh-oh," Veronica said. "Suddenly I'm feeling very protective of my lady pony parts. Good thing we're not going to the same party."

"I guess," Mac said. "Are you sure you don't want to stop by there? I bet it would mean a lot to Logan."

"Logan, me, and parties have never mixed well," Veronica said. "We're sort of almost friends again and I don't want to take any steps backward."

"I hate to tell you this, Veronica," Mac said as they walked out the door. "But I don't think you and Logan will ever be friends."

"Well, we can try. All I know is, I have a feeling we should steer clear of the Grand tonight."

* * *

"We should have gone to the Grand," Veronica said to herself as she looked down at Mac with a grimace. If they had, maybe Mac would have spent the night fighting with Dick, or badgering him about why he was being such a jackass. Instead, she could only speculate, and she had spent the party taking shots with anyone who would join her—including several guys who tried to hit on her but then gave up when she was only interested in talking about her roommate and what they thought his problem was. The side of Mac's face was now resting on the toilet seat in Wallace's bathroom, and Veronica really wanted to lift her face and wipe it down, but the last time she tried Mac had vomited on her hand.

Wallace, with a paper grocery bag over his chest that read 'Brown Sugar,' opened the bathroom door, saw Mac, and promptly made a U-turn out the door again.

"Thanks for your help!" Veronica called after him. She sat down on the floor next to Mac, rubbing her back comfortingly. "Mac-Attack, what's the deal? We are not the ones who jack up our BACs when we're upset—we leave that to the boys."

Mac either didn't hear her or didn't care enough to answer her. At that moment, Veronica's phone rang and she pulled it out of her bag and checked the screen.

"Hi Logan," she said. "How's the party?"

"I wish you were here," he said simply. She recognized the cadence in his voice and put her head back against the wall.

"Not you, too," she said. "How much have you had to drink?"

"What? Who else is drunk? Are you drunk?"

"No, but Mac is."

"Mac?" Logan asked, sounding nonplussed. "How drunk is she? Put her on the phone, I want to talk to her."

"I can't, she's currently riding the porcelain bus."

Logan didn't answer. Instead, she heard sounds of a scuffle and then a muffled, "Give it!"

"Where are you guys?" a new voice asked.

"Dick?" Veronica asked. "Are you…not drunk?"

Mac's head lifted slightly. "Dick?"

Veronica pushed the hair back from Mac's face—her braids had long since unraveled.

"Yeah, I'm rock-cold sober. Where are you?" Dick asked.

"Don't worry," Veronica told him. "Wallace has volunteered his pull-out couch, so we're just going to stay here so she can sleep it off."

"Ronnie, where are you?" Dick said.

"I want to go home," Mac told the toilet.

Veronica finally acquiesced and told Dick which building Wallace lived in. A short time later there was a knock on the bathroom door.

"It's occupied," she called through the door.

"Strip-o-gram," Wallace called back. She opened the door to see him standing there with Dick, who was still in costume.

"Wow," she said. "Where's your boom box?"

"It's in the car," Dick said as he brushed by her to get to Mac. She was leaning against the toilet, one of her legs folded under her and the other sticking out at an odd angle. Throwing a glance in Wallace's direction, Dick pulled her dress down from where it had ridden up on her thigh.

"C'mon, Mackie," he said, tapping her lightly on the cheek. "Time to go."

Mac opened her eyes. "Hi," she said.

"Hey. Are you gonna puke in my car?" he asked.

Mac shook her head no. "Are you mad at me?" she asked. Veronica glared at Dick until she noticed how much Mac's question seemed to have upset him.

"No, I'm not mad," he said, running a hand over the top of her head. "Let's go home, okay?"

Mac nodded and Dick swiftly picked her up and carried her out of the room, leaving Wallace and Veronica behind without a backwards glance.

"Well, it's not a holiday in Neptune unless someone has to be physically removed from the party," Wallace said.

Veronica sighed. "Happy Halloween, Papa Bear."

Next Chapter: Hangover City, Population: Mac

AN: Hey guys! Here's the latest chapter…you might notice the last half is actually the preview that I tacked onto the end of the Graffiti story. It's been deleted from there, because it didn't make much sense to leave it up in both places. Anyway, enjoy, and let me know what you think!


	6. Hangover City, Population: Mac

Mac slowly opened her eyes and winced. She rolled onto her back and immediately regretted the movement as she felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. She brought up a hand to shade her eyes from the sunlight coming through her doors.

She sat up gingerly. She saw a glass of water and an aspirin bottle on her bedside table, and when her elbow knocked into something, she turned to see a saucepan in bed with her. Filled with trepidation, she leaned over to look inside it, then shut her eyes again in relief when she saw she hadn't needed it. She put the pan on her table and picked up the aspirin.

"Dick?" she called. He appeared in her doorway a few seconds later.

"Hey, drunky," he said. "How's your head?"

She looked up at him, barely fighting back panic as she realized she could remember almost nothing from the night before. "What happened last night? The last thing I remember is trying to pull Veronica's tail."

"You got sick, so I came and got you."

"Oh, God," Mac said, rubbing her forehead. "I'm so embarrassed."

"Don't be," Dick said. "It happens."

"Did I do or say anything I should know about?"

"Nope, you've got nothing to worry about."

"Are you sure?" she demanded.

"Sure as I am that Logan plus Ronnie spells love."

She looked up at him curiously. "You didn't drink last night?"

He shrugged. "I had a drink or two, but by the time I talked to Ronnie I was sober again. Told you, I haven't blacked out since we got to be friends. I'm going for a personal record."

"Oh," Mac said.

"Also, I sent our old housekeeper over to Wallace's to clean up his bathroom."

Mac made a pained face. "Was it bad?"

Dick grinned. "Not that bad."

"Dick," she said.

"Okay, it was kind of bad."

Mac put her head in her hands and groaned.

"Dick?" she said after a moment.

"Yeah?" he said.

"Am I wearing your tear-away pants?"

"Yeah."

"Why am I wearing your tear-away pants?"

"Well you were all shivery in that ugly-ass dress, so when we left Wallace's I put them on you. The sweatshirt, too."

Mac looked at him askance. "You didn't…look, or anything?"

"Don't worry, your virtue is intact," he said, making Mac blush. "I'm not so much into unconscious chicks."

As soon as the words had left his mouth, a deep frown crossed his face and he looked down at the foot of her bed, and Mac knew he was thinking about his complicity in what happened to Veronica at Shelly Pomroy's party.

"You want to eat Chinese food and watch movies all day?" Mac asked.

"Yes," Dick said emphatically.

Mac climbed out of bed. She walked over to her drawers and began to dig through them in search of her most comfortable sweats. "Hey," she said to Dick, catching his attention before he walked out. "You mad at me?"

"No," he said, ducking his head bashfully. "You mad at me?"

Mac turned and gave him a reassuring smile. "No." They walked out of the room together. "Okay," Mac said, as they headed down the hallway. "You order the food and pick out some movies, and I'm going to shower, and I'll meet you on the couch."

"I'm on it," Dick said. "Oh, and I'm going to need those pants back, you know," he told her as they entered their makeshift theater and game room.

"Got a side job I don't know about? Or can you just not bust a move without them?"

"Oh I can bust a move any time, any place, sweetheart," Dick said, proving his point by breaking into a little dance, complete with hip gyrations.

Mac laughed, then stopped as she thought of something. "If I was wearing your pants, what did you wear home?"

"Let's just say it's a good thing we didn't get pulled over."

* * *

The next day Mac busied herself in the kitchen after her morning classes. She had just pulled a sheet of cookies out of the oven and was eying them speculatively when Dick walked in and sat down at the island counter.

"Taste one of these," she said to him.

"Gladly," he said. He grabbed one from the sheet and promptly flung it across the room. "After they cool down," he said with a judicious nod.

"Manly," she said, turning back to the oven.

"Yeah, thanks. And way for you to be girly. Did you decide to become all domestic just to please me? Because you know, I like you just the way you are."

Mac shot him a look over her shoulder, but he was grinning at her, so she just rolled her eyes and reset the timer.

"If this is going to become a habit, though, I'm going to want you to get one of those filly little apron dealies," he said.

"Dick, another comment like that and I will beat you with this cookie sheet."

He scoffed. "So why are you baking? You want to follow in Martha's footsteps? I bet all the ladies on cell block six would love you," he said.

Mac stared at him, oven-mitted hands on her hips. "What is with you today?"

"I really don't know," he said. He sounded amused, but he kept a wary eye on the cookie sheet within Mac's easy reach.

"Well, quit it," she said. "Some of the cookies are for Veronica, to pay her back for her caretaking services from the other night. The snickerdoodles are for Wallace, and I'm also making some to send over to the neighbors. Remember, that kid Jamie brought over muffins before?"

Dick frowned. "I remember the muffins," he said.

"You didn't meet Jamie. He's a senior at Neptune High. He's pretty cool."

"Oh," Dick said. "Can I bring some cookies over to Logan's?"

Mac hid a smile. "I'll make another batch," she said.

"You are the best," he said.

"Damn straight."

* * *

Next Chapter: Old Friends

A/N: Hi guys! Sorry it took me so long to update. I don't love this chapter (I admit, it's pretty much just filler), but I do like some of the upcoming chapters a lot—there's even some plot thrown in (gasp). Anyway, I hope you like it, and I will try to get the next chapter posted asap!


	7. Old Friends

Feeling quite satisfied with herself, Mac typed the last line of her assignment with a flourish, hit save, then shut her computer and stood up to stretch. She turned first toward the door then toward her curtained balcony doors; finally, her back cracked and she sighed appreciatively.

She glanced at her watch and did a double-take when she realized how late in the afternoon it was. A few seconds later, she realized that Dick was going to be late for his afternoon class if he didn't leave right then.

She left her darkened room and knocked on Dick's door. When he didn't answer, she poked her head in and quickly shut her eyes against the brilliant sunlight streaming in through the French doors. When her eyes had adjusted, she saw Dick, fast asleep, lying half-off his bed. He had eaten all of the leftover cookies for breakfast and then, it appeared, crashed down from the sugar high.

Mac observed the way the light hitting his sun-bleached hair gave him an unearthly glow; it made him look almost angelic.

She walked over and pushed him off the bed.

"What the hell, dude?" Dick said as he popped his head up from the other side of the bed.

"You're going to be late," Mac said.

He looked at the clock.

"Yeah, if I go. Better to stay here and avoid the tardy," he said as he started to climb back onto his bed.

Mac grabbed two of his fingers and twisted slightly.

"Ow ow ow!" Dick said. Mac ignored his whining and pulled him downstairs. When they reached the door, she handed him his keys and a notebook.

"Go learn," she said.

"I think I could learn more here from you," Dick said, rubbing his sore hand against his chest. "How does it feel working without your whip?"

Mac opened the door and pushed him out.

"Don't come back until you can tell me something about market fragments!" she said as she shut the door in his face.

* * *

"Hello?" Mac said into her cell phone an hour later.

"Market fragments are when you look at clients in subsets instead of as a whole," Dick said.

"Did you just look that up online?"

"Yes."

"But you did go to class?"

"Yes."

Mac smiled. "Good. How was it?"

"Boring and confusing, not a good combination. Plus I got a flat before I even left campus. Come get me?"

A short while later, Mac was walking around the quad searching for Dick, who was not where he'd said he would be. She finally found him playing football behind the student union.

"Dude," she said from where she stood under the trees, her hands on her hips.

"Hey, Mackie!" he said. "I gotta go, see you guys later!" he called to the other players, all of whom waved and shouted goodbyes.

"Who are those guys?" Mac asked as he trotted over to her.

"I just met them today," Dick said with a shrug. "Thanks for coming down."

"Why didn't you just change the tire?" Mac asked.

"Do I look like I know how to change a tire?"

"No, but you also don't look like you know how to read, and I know for a fact that you can do that," Mac said.

"Luckily, I can also take a joke," Dick said, ruffling Mac's hair even as she tried to push him away.

"Mac," she heard a familiar voice call from behind them. She glanced up at Dick, who was making a face of distaste, so she knew he recognized it as well.

She turned around. "Hey, Piz," she said, trying to conjure up a sincere smile.

"Hey, how are you?" he said as he approached them from an adjoining path.

"I'm fine. You remember Dick," she said.

"Hey, how are you?" he repeated to Dick, who didn't answer. "Anyway," Piz said, turning back to Mac. "How's school going? Where are you living this year?"

"It's fine. I'm living off campus," Mac said.

"With me," Dick interjected.

Piz's face showed his surprise, but he kept his voice somewhat neutral. "Oh, cool, I didn't know that."

"Yeah," Mac said.

Piz paused, and Mac knew what was coming before he said it. "So how's Veronica? I haven't talked to her in ages, and I never see her around any more."

"Probably with Logan a lot," Dick said sagely.

Mac shot Dick a covert look of annoyance. She wasn't sure if he had said that simply to make Piz feel bad, or to assert Logan's claim on Veronica, but either way it seemed unnecessary. At that moment her phone chirped.

"Sorry, just got a text," she said.

"Do you need some help reading it?" Dick asked, clearly hoping to get away from Piz.

Piz scoffed quietly, apparently at the thought of Dick reading, and despite her earlier jab at Dick, Mac felt a surge of animosity toward Piz.

"It's from Veronica," she said, mostly to Dick. "She wants to go see a movie tonight."

"What, the four of us?" he asked. Looking over at Piz, he clarified, "Us and her and Logan?"

"Yeah, I think so," she replied. It was pretty unlikely that Veronica actually meant that, but Mac let Piz believe it because he had slighted Dick.

"Well, have fun," the boy said lamely.

"We will," Dick said with a smirk. "What are you doing tonight? Hot date with your acoustic guitar?"

Mac's feelings swung once again into the realm of irritation. Dick was back to his high school mode, alienating the people he didn't like and taking pleasure in it.

"Come on," Mac said to him. "We should get home. Bye, Piz, it was good to see you."

"Bye, Mac," he said with a half-hearted smile. Mac waved as she and Dick started to leave. When they had turned a corner, Mac whapped Dick on the arm.

"Ow—_what?_" he said.

"Why do you have to be mean?"

"I wasn't mean."

"You were mean."

"You don't like him either," Dick pointed out.

"That's not the point," Mac said. "I've never met another person who could treat people they don't like that way without a second thought."

"Why does it matter?"

"What if later you do like them?"

"I'm never gonna like that guy."

"Well what about me?" Mac asked.

Dick stared at her, clearly lost for words. He'd been terrible to her, and they both knew it. She looked at him expectantly, but he just looked at her in frustration.

"Whatever," she said, already turning to walk away. "I'm going to go see Veronica. I'll see you later."

"How am I supposed to get home?" Dick called.

"You can walk!" she yelled back.

When she found Veronica, Mac ranted to her for almost ten minutes about how insensitive her roommate could be. To Veronica's credit, the words "I told you so" never left her mouth.

"Come on, let's just go to a movie," Veronica said when Mac had finished. "It will take your mind off Dick."

It was a good plan in theory, until they arrived at the movie theater and saw Dick seated on the bench out front. He stood up when he saw them.

"I'll go get the tickets," Veronica said, and she disappeared inside.

"Hey," Dick said.

"Hey," Mac replied. "How did you get here?"

"One of those football guys gave me a ride."

"Oh," Mac said. She crossed her arms over her chest and studied the movie posters on the side of the building. She only looked at Dick when he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry about before," Dick said. "You and me are so awesome now, I forget that we didn't used to be."

Mac looked at him for a few seconds, then shrugged. "It's okay," she said, giving him a small smile. "It's possible I overreacted."

"So we're good?" he asked.

"Yeah," Mac said.

"Good," he said, squeezing her upper arm with one hand. Mac looked up at him, suddenly unable to think of anything but the last time he had apologized to her, and what he had tried to do afterward.

"DUDE," they heard someone say from a few feet away.

They both turned and Dick's face lit up.

"Enbom!" he shouted, rushing over to his old friend. They embraced and slapped each other's backs. "How the hell are you?" Dick asked.

"Freaking awesome," he said. "I've been snorkeling in the Caymans, pretty much since graduation."

"Sweet," Dick said. "Hey, come here, I want you to meet someone." He led his friend over to Mac, who was fervently wishing that Veronica would come back outside.

"Enbom, this is my friend Mac," Dick said, resting his hand on Mac's shoulder again. "Mac, Enbom."

Enbom looked at Mac then at Dick. "Dude, are you gonna be on Beauty and the Geek?" he said to Dick.

The smile fell from Dick's face. "She's not a geek," he said.

"Okay," Enbom said with a smirk.

"Dude," Dick said. "Shut up. Don't talk about my friend like that."

Enbom was studying Mac's face. He turned to Dick slowly. "Wait…you know that this is the girl who dated Beaver, right?"

Mac grabbed Dick's hand before he could raise it.

"Forget it," she said to him in an undertone. "He doesn't understand anything."

"Dude," Dick said coldly. "You want to get out of here, now."

"Whatever, Dick," Enbom said. "Have fun with your new freak friends."

Mac looked up at Dick, who looked as though he wanted to punch their old classmate in the back of the head. She felt any lingering ill will from that day melt away completely.

Dick turned back to her, the fury gradually fading from his face. Mac opened her mouth to speak, although she didn't know quite what she wanted to say.

"I…" she began, then trailed off, surprised when her voice sounded strained, like someone else's.

"Got the tickets," Veronica said from behind them.

For a second neither of them moved, and then Mac smiled at Dick and jerked her head toward the theater.

"C'mon," she said. "I'll buy you a Slushee."

Next Chapter: Mommy and Me

A/N: Hi everyone! Not too much to say about this chapter, except that I stole the concept of market fragments from a conversation between Ryan and Michael on The Office. I was too lazy to look up any real business jargon, and I apologize for that laziness. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I want to thank everyone who has left a review for this story. I've never gotten this many reviews before, and I'm feeling so excited and encouraged because of them! Thanks again! I'll try to update soon!


	8. Mommy and Me

Mac shrugged off her sweater as she sat down across from her mother at Stella's, her favorite seaside restaurant. It had been a few weeks since Halloween, and something had been bugging Mac, so she had finally broken down and called her mom. They chatted for a few minutes about how Mac's classes were going, and how Mac liked the room she was renting out (Mac squirmed a bit during this part), until their waitress came to take their orders. When the girl had walked away, Mac's mother laced her fingers together on the table.

"So," she said. "What's really going on?"

Mac tilted her head. "What? What do you mean?"

"As much as I love spending time with you, honey, you really never call unless there's something specific on your mind. So, what's bothering you?"

Mac looked out through the large window next to them.

"Well, there is kind of this boy," she admitted. She looked back over to see her mother practically glowing at the idea that her daughter wanted to confide in her about boy troubles. "We're not dating or anything," she clarified. "We're just friends. In fact, he's probably my closest guy friend."

"Is it your friend Wallace?"

"Oh, no, no. You haven't met this boy—we only really became close this semester," she said. "I mean, we've known each other for a long time, but we were never friends. Then at the beginning of this year he took it upon himself to help me out with a problem I was having, and after that we started spending a lot of time together."

"And now you like him," her mother prodded.

"Well…" Mac hedged. "As a person, sure, I like him. We get along really well, which kind of caught everyone by surprise, including us. But a while back, he was doing this little dance—he does that a lot—and I don't know, something just hit me. I was…attracted to him, which is just…really weird."

"Why is it weird?"

"I don't know," Mac said, feeling as though she was doing a bad job of explaining the situation. "It doesn't matter anyway. I don't think he'd ever be interested in me."

"Well, why wouldn't he be?" her mother asked, clearly offended on her behalf. "You're a beautiful girl."

Mac rolled her eyes. "That doesn't mean that much, coming from my mom."

"Well it's true," her mother said firmly. "And if this boy doesn't see that he's a moron."

"Well, I think he notices I'm a girl, at least," Mac said. "Every once in a while he'll say something about, you know, my body," she said awkwardly. "But he does that with every girl. And, I mean, he did try to kiss me one time last year," she said, then hurried on when she saw her mom's eyes light up. "But it didn't mean anything. It was totally inappropriate at the time, and plus, now, when we hang out, I'm usually in sweatpants, and we just sit around and play video games."

Her mother sat in thought for a moment before speaking. "Well, tell me a little about him. What is he like? What does he do for fun?"

"Well," Mac said. "He's really goofy, and happy-go-lucky. He enjoys surfing, and 'That's what she said' jokes. He's in a frat, but I don't know what happened with that—he hasn't gone to a meeting yet this year, as far as I know. His family is pretty messed up, but he's turned out remarkably stable, given the circumstances. He can be totally thoughtless and aggravating, but every once in a while he does something so sweet, without even really knowing that he's doing it."

Her mother was grinning from ear to ear.

"What?" Mac said.

"Nothing," her mother said. "But if somebody had told me last year my brilliant, hyper-observant, sometimes misanthropic daughter would have a crush on a happy-go-lucky surfer, I would have asked them what drug they were on, and where I could get some."

Mac blushed. "I know. It's pretty out there."

"Honey, I think this is great. Really. You're branching out, and you're moving on after the incident from your senior year," her mother said, taking a quick sip of her water to mask what Mac was sure was a shudder. "And you seem happy."

"I'd be happier if I could never think about him that way again," Mac said.

"Well if you keep feeling this way, maybe you should do something about it."

"I'm not telling him anything," Mac said stoutly.

"Well, you can still subtly encourage him," her mother said.

"How do you suggest I do that?" she asked.

"Well, next time you see him, try to look nice. Wear something a little shorter than you might normally, or put on some extra makeup."

"I can't believe it. My own mother is telling me to whore it up."

Her mother stifled a laugh and gave her a disapproving look. "I'm not telling you to whore it up, I'm just saying, put in a little effort. Now, when can I come see the house you're living in?"

Mac shrugged and looked out at the darkening sky, staying quiet for most of the rest of their meal. A small part of her wondered what would happen if she did glam herself up for Dick, but she wasn't sure she could bring herself to do it.

Almost immediately after her conversation with her mother, a storm settled over Neptune and wouldn't budge. The weather was so unpleasant that Mac left the house only to attend her classes and to pick up food. Dick was miserable because he couldn't surf, or frolic, or whatever it was he usually did in the sun. After a day or two of bad weather, Mac started to avoid him, fearing that one of them would crack under the strain of being stuck in the house all day and start a huge fight.

To keep herself from going crazy, she started to seek out projects. First, she painted her room—first a pale shade of green, then, when that was too normal-looking, she overlaid it with a coat of yellow. The resulting effect was reminiscent of a week-old bruise, and Mac found she liked it. Next, she finally unpacked all her stuff and organized her room. Finally, she tackled the garage, where Dick had dumped box upon box of things he'd taken from his old house. He didn't want any of it in the new house, but he didn't want to go through it, either.

"Had to take it, though," he'd told her. "Before the namesake could go through and do whatever with it."

Mac didn't know what Dick thought his father would do with all of the junk, or why he thought it was better off in their garage, but she didn't ask questions. She spent hours sorting through old science projects, trophies and report cards, and was surprised to learn that Dick had been a decent student until about the fifth grade, when his teachers started reporting troubling behavior. She organized the stuff more efficiently to save space, but she ended up leaving everything out in the garage except for one slightly water-damaged photograph that had given her pause. When she reentered the house, sweaty and grumpy in an old Fiona Apple t-shirt, with a bandana wrapped haphazardly around her hair, it occurred to her that she was going directly against her mother's advice, but she just couldn't make herself care.

"Whoa," Dick said when he saw her grime-streaked face.

"Oh like you're perfect!" Mac snapped as she brushed by him.

She heard him chuckle as she left the room and after a moment, she laughed too.

Next Chapter: Intruders

A/N: Hey guys, sorry about the delay. I'll try to keep the chapters coming as quickly as possible, but it's the end of the school year, so things get crazy. Hope you enjoy it!


	9. Intruders

With a sudden start, Dick woke up and toppled over the side of his bed. He groaned from the floor, then pulled himself onto his knees and looked over at his clock. 10:08 a.m. Why anyone would choose to be awake at this hour was beyond him. Images from his dreams were slowly coming back to him: there had been a girl, who wasn't actually touching him—she just taunted him with the scarf in her hands. That was the moment that he realized that what had woken him was the sound of the girl in the next room crying.

He stood up and walked out of his room, hesitating by her door, worrying that Mac would be angry with him if he bothered her when she was upset.

Cracking the door open, he looked in to see that she wasn't even awake. She was in her bed, lying on her back and making quiet noises as tears streamed down her face. She was wearing some little cotton dress that looked vaguely familiar, although he couldn't place where he'd seen it before. He moved closer and decided he should probably wake her up, even though he didn't want to.

He knew it was probably Beaver she was dreaming about. What else could it be? His little brother was the one thing that he had ever known to seriously throw her for a loop. Even learning she had been switched at birth didn't faze her all that much. Although, she had confessed one night that she had cried for days after reading the last Harry Potter book. Apparently she really liked some dude who got killed by a wall.

Mac gave a pathetic little whimper then, and it spurred him into action. He walked swiftly to her bedside.

"Mackie," he said quietly. "Wake up." He put a hand on her arm, and her eyes flew open. She sat up with a gasp, looking wildly around the room, her eyes shooting from the balcony to the closet to the door, before they refocused on him and she put her arms around him in a tight hug.

Dick froze. Mac rarely initiated such close contact with him. He shut his eyes and drew her in closer.

"Bad dream?" he asked, because he felt like he should.

"Yeah," she said hoarsely.

"Do you want to…you know?" he asked.

"Not really," she said, and he breathed out in relief.

"Just…" she started. "Please be careful, Dick, okay?"

"Huh?" Dick pulled back and looked at her, completely confused. "Was there a draft? Am I going to war? Great, now I gotta move to Canada."

They stared at each other for a minute, both trying to figure out what was going on.

"No, Dick, you're not going to war," Mac said finally. "I just get worried, you know, about Oliver."

"Who the hell is Oliver?" Dick asked testily, quickly losing patience with the conversation.

Mac shut her eyes, clearly trying to remain calm. "The guy you shot, Dick, his name was Oliver."

"Ohhh," Dick said. "That guy? Pfft. Don't worry about him." Dick would have said more but that was when the implication of her words sank in. She had been having a nightmare that that guy was going to come back and hurt him. It gave him a funny feeling in his chest to know that someone cared enough about his well-being to have an actual nightmare about him. He thought about hugging her again.

At that moment they heard something from downstairs, what sounded like someone rattling the doorknob. Dick looked at Mac with wide eyes.

"You're not like a prophet or something, right?"

"Let's hope not," Mac said, swinging her legs over the edge of her bed.

"Stay up here, and put some shoes on," Dick told her as he moved toward the hallway, grabbing her umbrella on the way and wielding it as a bat.

"Dick, wait!" she hissed at him. She joined him a minute later, wearing the rain boots that had been sitting by her door.

Dick headed down the stairs slowly, motioning for Mac to stay up on the landing. She ignored him and followed, and when he turned his head he came face to face with her exposed legs. He shut his eyes and refocused his attention with some difficulty, because now was definitely not the time to be distracted by his roommate's supple thighs.

The noise from outside the front door had stopped, and the two stood stock-still on the staircase. Then Mac shifted and her rain boot squeaked, causing Dick to shush her with his arms.

"Sorry," she whispered, and he shushed her again, sticking his neck out as he tried to listen.

They both heard it at the same time: the _crack-whoosh_ sound of the French doors that led onto the patio opening. Dick tensed and turned to look at Mac, whose eyes were like saucers. He pointed up the stairs.

"Go hide!" he mouthed.

She shook her head, and he tried to push her a little toward her room. She slapped his hand away and he gave her a look that was half anger and half frustration. He reached out to push her again but she grabbed his hands before they reached her.

They heard a voice and, staring wide-eyed at each other, froze.

Next Chapter: Taken Away

A/N: Dun dun DUNNNN….I have to say, I don't usually write cliffhangers, but this was fun. Happy reading, and I'll try to post the next chapter soon.


	10. Taken Away

"Hello?" the voice called.

Mac dropped Dick's hands, a stunned look on her face.

"Mom?" she said.

"Cindy?"

Mac was putting a hand to her face now, breathing out a frustrated sigh.

"Mom!" she said, as she quickly made her way down to the bottom of the stairs. Dick followed and saw her hugging her parents in the kitchen. The couple had put several grocery bags on the counter, as well as a vase full of white daisies and a dish of what looked like lasagna. Dick's stomach rumbled.

"What are you guys doing here?" Mac was saying. "You scared us half to death."

"Sorry, honey," her dad said. Then he caught sight of Dick. "Who's this?" he asked, his voice calm, although Dick suspected it wouldn't stay that way for long. He couldn't say he blamed the guy, as he looked at Mac in her little nightie and rain boots. He almost laughed then as he realized that she'd actually put on rain boots.

"This is Dick, Veronica's boyfriend," Mac was saying uneasily, and Dick resisted the urge to make a face. Veronica was pretty hot and she could be funny sometimes, but still.

Mac's dad had relaxed a bit, and her mother was trying to fix Mac's hair, to Mac's obvious irritation.

"We wanted to see your room, but you weren't picking up your phone," her mother said, giving her a look. "So, I called Veronica and got the address. Your nightgown looks adorable, by the way…with your rain boots…with skulls on them. Why are you wearing skull boots?" she asked.

"I told you, you caught us off-guard."

Dick looked at Mac's dad, who looked like he was about to start a line of questioning that Dick really didn't want him to. Dick was about to open his mouth and say something—he didn't know what—when the doorknob rattled again behind him. He looked out the side window, and then opened the door to let in Veronica herself.

"Hi, sorry, forgot my key," she said as she hurried in. She took a coffee from the tray she was carrying and handed it to Dick. Then she brushed by him and gave a second one to Mac before taking the third for herself.

"Hi, Mrs. Mackenzie, it's nice to see you again," she said.

"Veronica, how are you?" Mac's mom asked. She then leaned in closer and stage whispered to her, "That's quite a nice-looking boyfriend you've got there."

Veronica turned to look at Dick. "He is a catch," she said, her face letting Dick know that in her mind she was making some pun about catching chlamydia or something.

"Cindy, this place is unbelievable," said Mrs. Mackenzie. "How did you girls ever find it?"

"Just lucky, I guess," Mac said.

"Show us your room," Mac's dad said.

"Yeah, okay," she replied.

"Mine's a total disaster area," Veronica said. "So you better not risk poking your head in. Just think Cindy's, but backwards."

Mac's mom laughed as they headed upstairs. Dick turned to Veronica.

"I gotta hand it to you, Mars, you know how to handle yourself under pressure."

"And I gotta hand it to you, Casablancas, you know how to stand quietly to one side."

"Can you think of something else I should have done? I'm trying to fly under the radar, here."

"Come on, Dick. There is no way you'll be able to go for much longer without Mac's parents realizing just what is going on here."

"It's not like we're doing anything wrong," Dick said petulantly. "We just like being roommates and Mac doesn't think her parents would get it."

"Well, sooner or later, the proverbial cat is going to claw its way out of the bag."

"So you say," Dick said, just as they heard raised voices from upstairs. "Oh, crap."

"I should go…" Veronica said, turning to walk past him.

"You're not going anywhere, girlfriend," Dick said stopping her with a hand to her forehead. "We don't break ranks until we know that they know."

At that moment they both clearly heard Mr. Mackenzie say the words "living with a _frat boy?_"

"I think they know," Veronica said, removing his hand with distaste. "So, gotta jet, but tell Mac to call me after her parents drag her home by force."

Just like that, she was gone, and Dick was standing alone, waiting for Mac's parents to come and yell at him. He went into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, eying the lasagna. After a minute of hesitation, he gave in and pulled the foil back. It was vegetarian, because of Mac, but still, it was damn good lasagna.

He was so engrossed in the food that he wasn't aware of the Mackenzies' angry voices coming nearer. Then he noticed that it had gotten very quiet and he looked up to find all three of them staring at him.

"Dick, it's like ten-thirty in the morning," Mac said in exasperation.

"Sorry," he said, standing up straight. "But it smelled really good, and…"

"Okay," Mr. Mackenzie interrupted. "I want to hear exactly how this situation came about."

"Honey," Mac's mom broke in as Mac walked over to stand next to Dick with her arms crossed. "I don't think we really need to worry about this. I mean, he's her best friend's boyfriend."

Mac and Dick studiously avoided looking at each other, and Mac's mom's face showed a dawning comprehension and disappointment.

"He's not Veronica's boyfriend?" she said, and Mac winced.

"Not…in the strictest sense," Dick answered. "But Mac and I are just friends."

"I don't care," Mac's dad answered. "Look, I'm sure you're a nice kid, but I'm not going to let my daughter live with some random guy she barely knows."

"I do know him!" Mac burst out. "I've known him for years, Dad, that's what I'm trying to tell you. We like being roommates, and I don't see what the problem is."

"If you didn't see the problem, then why did you lie to us?" Mr. Mackenzie said pointedly, making Mac look away. "You've never lied to us, Cindy. What's going on with you?"

"I never lied to you guys because I never did anything wrong! I'm not a wild child, I don't break the rules—you know that, so why are you freaking out about this? I didn't tell you because I figured you would react this way, but I still hoped that if you did find out you'd be reasonable about it."

"I'm your father, I don't have to be reasonable. Now go get your things."

"What? Dad, no!"

"Get your things, Cindy. We're going."

Mac's mom looked like she wanted to protest, and Mac looked like she was going to cry. Dick wanted to put his hand on her shoulder but he figured that would not be a smart move.

"I'm eighteen," Mac said. "You can't make me move out."

"But we can cut you off," her dad responded.

"Go ahead," Mac said, lifting her chin. "I'd figure something out."

Dick nodded fiercely.

"Cindy," her dad said in a dangerous tone. "I am not playing around. We'll talk about this more at home, but for now, go get your stuff."

Mac stared at him defiantly for a few more seconds before she lowered her head and walked upstairs. Dick followed her quickly, not giving her dad the option of trying to stop him.

When they got to her room, she shut the door behind them and looked around the room as though it had betrayed her.

"You don't have to go," Dick said. "Don't worry about the money stuff."

"They're my parents, Dick, I can't turn my back on them," she said tiredly. "Look, I was going to go home for Thanksgiving anyway, so I'll just go now, then I can talk things over with my mom, and everything will be fine. Until then, there's no point in trying to wage war against my dad." She pulled a small duffel bag down from her closet shelf and started stuffing a few things into it and throwing other items on the bed. She tucked her computer into the bag, then moved back into the closet for more clothes.

"So how did they know?" Dick asked, sitting down on the foot of her bed.

"My dad went out on the balcony and looked in your window. I couldn't get him to believe that it was Veronica's pile of porn on the bed," Mac said, indiscriminately throwing clothing over her shoulder.

"Why not? She kinda seems like she'd be into that," Dick said. Mac gave him a nasty look and he shut his mouth, until he saw something he recognized fly through the air.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, leaning over to pick up the yellow fabric from where it landed.

Mac turned to look at what he was holding from her spot in the closet. She paled a bit when she saw it, then she walked over to stand next to him.

"That's the shirt Logan gave me on graduation night. Why?"

"It's mine," he said. "I must have left it one of the times I crashed there."

"Oh. I…did not know that," she said quietly, turning back to the closet.

At that moment, Dick would have given all his money to know what she was thinking. When she turned around again, her eyes were a little red. She grabbed the bag from the bed and opened the door.

"I'll be back soon," she said. Then she turned and walked out.

Next Chapter: Separate Lives

A/N: It turns out I'm not mean enough to leave a cliffhanger for too long. Although, some of you may consider this turn of events slightly mean. So maybe I am a little evil.


	11. Separate Lives

Mac walked into her room and shut the door gently. (She didn't stomp down the hall and slam the door repeatedly, the way she wanted to, because she wanted to prove to her parents how mature she was.) She flopped down on her bed and stared resolutely at the ceiling.

She was not going to cry. If she cried, it would be like admitting that she wouldn't be going back to the house any time soon, and she had to believe that she would be.

After a few minutes, she heard a knock on her door. Her mother poked her head in, and Mac rolled so that she faced away from her. She felt the mattress dip behind her as her mom sat down.

"Your dad's going to get the rest of your stuff later," she said quietly.

Mac couldn't stop a tear from slipping out of the corner of her eye. Her mother lay down next to her and gave her the tightest hug she could manage while they were both lying down.

"I'm sorry, honey. You know your dad just gets protective of you. You're his little girl."

Mac didn't answer, because she felt dangerously close to telling her mother that she knew that she had been switched at birth.

"Cindy," her mother said tentatively. "Can I ask you something?"

Mac jerked her shoulder. That was as close to an answer as she could give at the moment.

"Is Dick the boy you told me about when we went to lunch?"

Mac didn't turn around, and didn't answer either. Her mother stayed quiet for a moment.

"Well, if that's the case, then I guess I have to agree with your father."

Mac shot upright. "Mom, no!"

"Well, I can't sit by while you live in a house with a boy you told me you're attracted to," her mother said, sitting up as well.

"It was a fleeting impulse! Weren't you listening to anything else I said? He's my closest friend besides Veronica, and he looks out for me. Today when we thought somebody was breaking in he tried to make me go and hide so I wouldn't get hurt."

"It doesn't surprise me that he cares for you, and of course I like that he wants to keep you safe, but you're not helping your case here."

Mac slumped back against the headboard. "Would it be better if we hated each other?" she asked bitterly. Then, growing angrier by the second, she sat up once again. "You know what, Mom? I'm in college. You and Dad can't control my life forever. And I know what this is about."

She got up and looked down at her mother. "You don't want me having 'the sex,'" she said theatrically, jazz hands and all. "Dick and I aren't even together, you know," she said, starting to pace the length of her bed. "And if we were, it would be my business, not yours." She stopped at her headboard and tried not to look at her childhood stuffed animals as she told her mother, "I'm not a little kid anymore, and if I want to have sex, I'm going to do it."

Her mother looked pained, and slightly ill. She looked at Mac for a long moment, then answered, "I may not be able to stop you. But I won't enable you."

With that, her mother got up and walked out of the room. Mac threw one of her less beloved stuffed animals after her, making a quiet, unsatisfying _ping_ sound as one of its glass eyes hit the doorknob.

Mac fervently wished she had never confided in her mother, but who else could she have talked to? Veronica? Wallace? Unlikely.

Mac took a few minutes to collect herself before she found her cell phone and called Dick.

"What happened?" he asked in lieu of a greeting.

"My plan to win over my mom failed miserably. Don't worry, I'll keep working on her."

"Okay. Keep trying."

"My dad's going to come by and get the rest of my stuff later."

"What?" Dick said. "No way am I letting him in."

"He took my key—I don't think you have a choice."

"Well maybe I can talk to him."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Mac said. "A situation like that requires...delicacy."

"I'm delicate!" Dick said. "I've got buttloads of delicacy."

"Dick, just stay out of his way," Mac said. "Please? At least now when he's still all riled up."

Dick snorted, but agreed to steer clear.

After they hung up, Mac sat in her room and thought about everything that had happened between her and Dick so far that year. It wasn't as though they couldn't still be friends, Mac told herself. Still though, it wouldn't be the same as living together. She knew more about Dick now than she could have learned in years of regular, non-cohabitating friendship. And when she thought about it, she realized that Dick had witnessed her do things that she never thought she'd let another person see. Not only was he one of just a handful of people who could say they'd seen her cry, he had also caught her one day singing and jumping around to an old Spice Girls song. He had been mercifully quiet on the subject—although, he had changed his phone settings so that when she called it played 'Spice up Your Life.'

But it would be fine. It sucked, yeah. But it's not like her happiness depended on living with Dick.

Just then her brother started screaming in the hallway about not being allowed to have pizza for dinner. Mac rolled over onto her stomach and covered her head with her pillow.

Next Chapter: Tied Up, Cut Down, Cheered Up, Caught


	12. Tied Up, Cut Down, Cheered Up, Caught

Mac yawned widely as she exited the computer building. It had been a little over a week since her parents had made her come home, and so far they had shown no signs of budging.

She and Dick had gotten lunch a few days earlier, but their conversation was stilted. Mac figured it was because they were actively trying to think of stuff to say to one other, unlike when they lived together and didn't have to worry about when they'd see each other again.

"Hey!" she heard someone call as she walked down the path toward her car. She reached into her bag and pulled out her keys.

"Hey, wait!" the voice said again as she threw her bag in the backseat. She looked up and saw an unfamiliar student hurrying toward her.

"Do I know you?" she said when he got closer.

"You're Dick's roommate, right?" he asked.

Mac hesitated. "That's me," she said finally.

"You might want to head over to the quad. He got himself into a little trouble."

"What kind of trouble? And who are you?"

"I'm a Pi Sig. Somebody taped him to the flagpole, and I know he's my brother and all, but I am not going to haul his naked ass down from there."

Mac glared at the guy and got into her car. She backed out of her parking spot quickly, and then made a wide turn to leave, making the Pi Sig jump back to avoid being hit.

She took a shortcut through the English building parking lot to get to the quad. When she parked, she got out and opened her trunk, retrieving the blanket she kept in there next to her first aid kit. Blanket in hand, she hurried up to the main lawn and headed toward the crowd gathered there. She pushed her way to the front of the pack and saw just what she expected to: Dick, naked, with duct tape covering his privates and holding him to the pole. The word "waste" was written across his chest. His mouth was taped, too, and he had a nasty cut on his forehead.

Mac started toward him with her Swiss army knife keychain in hand. Dick's eyes fluttered shut in relief (or possibly shame) when he saw her, and she had just reached to cut him down when she heard a voice from behind her.

"I wouldn't do that."

Mac turned. "Weevil," she said flatly. "Can I assume this is your handiwork?"

"Yeah, I did it," he said, stepping forward through the parting crowd. "Kid was running his mouth and he needed to be taught some manners."

"And where in your etiquette book does it give you the okay to turn someone into a naked shish kebab?"

Mac turned back to Dick, knife outstretched, but Weevil marched over to her and wrenched her away from the flagpole.

"Stop!" Weevil yelled, as Dick made an angry noise. "Why are you helping him? He's supposed to be everything you hate!"

"Why, because I'm poor?" Mac asked acidly.

"No, because you're good, and decent. He's a racist and a jackass."

"Don't say that. Maybe he was, but he's not anymore."

Weevil looked at Dick, then back at her. "What the _hell_, Mac? Why is it that the two girls I respect the most go out and spread their legs for the richest guys they can find?"

Dick yelled something through the tape, and Mac shook off Weevil's hand.

"I think that about wraps up this conversation," she said icily. She quickly moved over to the flagpole and cut the tape holding Dick's hands in place. She handed him the knife and held the blanket in front of him as he cut away the rest of the tape. Dick wrapped the blanket around his midsection and stepped down from the platform. He looked at Weevil and opened his mouth, but Mac grabbed his arm and led him away.

She walked him to her car and put him in. Dick didn't say anything until they had driven past the campus gates.

"Sorry," he said finally.

"What did you say to him?" she asked.

"I don't know—I was just mad, and I wanted someone else to feel bad too."

"That's a mature sentiment," Mac said.

"He's the one who's not mature!" Dick said. "He did that to me just because he has a crush on you, you know."

Mac gave him a withering look. "Weevil does not have a crush on me."

"Could've fooled me," Dick said, crossing his arms over his chest.

There was a long moment of silence, which Mac finally broke by saying, "Actually, I'm pretty sure his taste runs more toward little blondes with tasers."

Dick turned his face toward her, looking torn between amusement and indignation on Logan's behalf. "Really?" he asked.

Mac nodded as she pressed her foot down harder on the gas pedal. Her little car sped up and the salty wind whipped around them as they neared the house.

"Ronnie doesn't like him back though, right?" he asked.

Mac rolled her eyes and pulled into the driveway a little haphazardly.

"Home sweet home," she said, mostly to herself, as she looked up at the house.

"Coming in?" Dick said.

"I shouldn't," Mac said.

"Come on, Mackie," he said. "We're not breaking any laws. Just come in for a Yoohoo."

Mac hesitated, then said, "Damn you for knowing my weaknesses." She climbed out of the car and followed Dick into the house.

* * *

Five hours later they were sitting on the couch in the living room, several empty Yoohoo bottles and a melted ice pack lying forgotten on the coffee table.

"We're not going to make a list for my dad, Dick," Mac was saying.

"Why not? It's how I won you over."

"I'll figure out another way. Don't worry."

"Well, if you won't make a list, just talk to them. Tell them what you want." The corner of his mouth twitched. "What you really really want."

Dick grinned, and Mac glared. Her expression slipped as she suppressed a yawn.

"It's getting late," she said. "I should go."

"Don't go," Dick said. "You can stay here tonight."

Mac sighed and leaned her head against the back of the couch. "Can you imagine what my parents would do if they found out we had a sleepover?"

"I know," Dick said. "But I hate being here by myself."

Affected by his quiet admission, Mac nodded, pulling out her cell phone and dialing home.

"Hi, Mom," she said a moment later.

"Hi sweetie, where are you?"

"I'm at Veronica's. I think I'm going to stay over here tonight."

"Oh, okay, well tell Veronica I said hello. Are you going to go straight to class tomorrow? Oh, hold on a second, your father wants to talk to you."

"Cindy?"

"Hi, Dad."

"Can you put Veronica on the phone please?"

"Why do you want to talk to Veronica?" Mac asked, her eyes meeting Dick's.

"I just want to ask her a question."

"Well, she's in the bathroom right now."

"I can wait."

Mac couldn't think of what to say. She sat there with her mouth forming silent words until finally her dad spoke again.

"Come home, Cindy."

Next Chapter: Alternative Points of View

* * *

A/N: Okay, first of all, for all the Weevil lovers out there, I'm sorry! I love Weevil, too—he's definitely one of the most interesting characters on VMars. However, I think we can all agree he can be a little hotheaded, and there's no love lost between him and the 09ers. Second, I've never been able to discern what his feelings for Veronica are, since their relationship is pretty mercurial. It may be that he just has a deep platonic respect for her, but I think in Mac's eyes, the fact that Veronica can get him to do so many favors for her might make her think there's more to it than that. And as for Dick thinking Weevil likes Mac, well, you can read into that what you like. Third, I know that Mac's parents seem a bit OTT when it comes to controlling Mac, but I'm pretty sure if I were in their position I'd be freaking, too. Let's hope they come around soon. Anyway, sorry to ramble—I hope you enjoy the chapter!


	13. Alternate Points of View

Logan walked past store after store, looking at the window displays and trying to block out the horrendous Christmas music.

It was stupid, he told himself, to look for something for Veronica when the odds that she would get him something were slim to none. Still, he continued to pause whenever he saw anything shiny or dangerous.

He looked out over the levels of the mall, trying to remember what other stores were there. He shook his head and was about to give up when he saw a familiar figure halfway to the top of a long escalator. He smiled and headed for the point where the escalator stopped. As he drew nearer the smile slipped from his face when he realized that yes, it was Mac, but her eyes were closed. If he didn't know any better he'd say she were asleep. He walked faster.

As she neared the top of the escalator, her eyes were still closed. When the stairs leveled out but she hadn't opened her eyes, Logan called out.

"Mac!"

Her eyes flew open and she stumbled as the floor beneath her stopped moving, but she didn't fall. She seemed disoriented as she regained her balance and looked around.

"Logan?" she said as he reached her side.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he led her over to a bench.

"Shopping for presents," Mac said.

He stood over her as she put her bags down and composed herself on the bench.

"Were you asleep?" he asked.

"No," she said. "I just shut my eyes for a second."

"You know, it's funny," Logan said. "I've heard Dick say that in class a hundred times, and you sound even less convincing than he does."

"Don't make a big deal," she said. "I just didn't sleep well last night."

Logan looked at her for a long moment. "Come on," he said finally. "I'll buy you a coffee."

* * *

Logan ordered two lattes and he and Mac brought them back to a bench by the entrance to Pottery Barn. As they watched the frazzled holiday shoppers race by, Logan pressed Mac for ideas about what to get Veronica.

"Do you know if she's getting you anything?" Mac asked.

"Honestly? I doubt it," Logan said. "I think she's still mad that I reneged on my promise of a pony last year."

Mac snorted into her coffee and let her gaze wander around the mall. "Oh, hey, look," she said. "It's Mr. Clemmons."

The two watched as their old principal, weighed down with shopping bags and looking beleaguered, exited Radio Shack and headed in their direction.

With identical grins, they waited for the man to see them. Logan cleared his throat when it seemed he was going to walk by without noticing them.

"Oh," Mr. Clemmons said. "Hello. How have you both been?" he asked, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

"We're peachy," Mac said.

"Sophomores now, aren't you?" the older man asked.

"Actually," Logan said. "I dropped out. I'm becoming a man of the cloth."

"I'm still in school," Mac chirped. "Paying my way through by shaking what his boss gave me," she said, waving her thumb in Logan's direction.

"I'm trying to show her the error of her ways," Logan said.

Mr. Clemmons looked unimpressed. "Whatever you say," he said. "Best of luck in your…endeavors." He then disappeared into the crowds. Mac and Logan exchanged wry smiles.

"As much fun as that was," Mac said, checking her wristwatch. "I've got to get going."

"Call when you get home," Logan said. "So I know you didn't fall asleep and drive into a wall."

"I'm fine," Mac said with a roll of her eyes. "Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, hyper-caffeinated…"

"Just call," Logan said, and Mac nodded.

Logan watched her walk away and dig her car keys out of her purse, then he got his cell phone out from his back pocket.

He dialed and waited while it rang.

"Hello?" Veronica said.

"Hey, it's me," he said.

"Hey. Is everything okay?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said. "I just found Mac about to face plant off the end of an escalator."

"You called to tell me Mac is a klutz?"

"I think she was asleep."

"You're kidding," Veronica said.

"I wish I were. I mean this with all due respect, but she looked terrible."

"Terrible in what way?"

"She looked like a celebrity mug shot," Logan said.

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

"Alright. My dad and I are up in San Francisco for a few days on vacation, but I'll give her a call and send Wallace over to check on her. Thanks for calling, Logan. Really."

"It's no problem," Logan said. "Any friend of yours, et cetera."

"Come on," Veronica said. "You know you consider Mac a friend. You know, for someone who doesn't like people, you seem to make a lot of exceptions."

"Hey, let's keep that on the DL. I've got this cold and unfeeling reputation to uphold," Logan said. "But…let me know how she's doing when you talk to her."

"Oh yeah, you're the Ice King."

* * *

Mac was facedown in her bed when her phone started to ring. Without lifting her head she fumbled around for her phone.

"Hello?" she said finally as she found it and pressed the right button, all with her face still firmly in her pillow.

"Mac?"

Mac sighed and rolled over onto her back.

"Hi, Veronica," she said.

"Hi, what's up?"

"Nothing really."

"Cool. Want to explain to me why you fell asleep standing up today?"

Mac groaned and fought the urge to turn back over.

"Don't roll your eyes, missy," Veronica said, and Mac's eyes widened.

"How did you—?"

"I know everything."

Mac sat up. "You didn't put cameras in my room, did you?" she asked.

"No, of course not," Veronica said. "Just the tracking device in your left rear tire."

Mac was silent for a minute. "You're kidding, right?"

"After everything that's happened, do you really hate the idea of someone being able to find out where you are?"

Mac thought about it. "Okay, fine," she said. "But no activating it unless it's really necessary."

"Deal. Now back to the matter at hand."

Mac swore in her head, wishing that Veronica could be just a little less sharp, sometimes.

"Fine," she said. "I fell asleep, just for a second."

"Why?" Veronica asked.

"You're the detective," Mac said irritably. "Why do people normally fall asleep?"

"Okay, why were you so tired?"

"You mean, 'Why are you so tired?'" Mac said, flopping back onto her pillows.

"It wasn't just a fluke?" Veronica said in a worried tone.

"It was a fluke that I fell asleep standing up," Mac said. "It wasn't a fluke that I was exhausted. I haven't been sleeping well."

"Since when?"

"Since I moved back home."

"And out of Dick's place," Veronica supplied, but Mac didn't answer. She flipped over onto her stomach, resting her chin on her arms.

"Do you think there's a correlation?" Veronica pressed.

"I don't know," Mac said. "The only time I've been able to fall asleep easily, I ended up dreaming about Cassidy yelling at me."

"Mac," Veronica said quietly.

"It's not a big deal, Veronica," Mac said. "I've had bouts of insomnia before. And the reason that they call it a bout is that it happens for a while, and then it passes. It'll only get worse if I think about it too much."

* * *

Wallace rang the bell at Mac's house, shifting while he waited for the door to open. He'd promised Veronica, who was still away on her much-needed vacation, that he'd stop by and check in on Mac, whose parents had pretty much taken her prisoner in their own home.

The door opened and Mac's mother smiled at him.

"Wallace," she said. "How are you?"

"I'm good, Mrs. Mackenzie, how are you?" he asked, and they exchanged further pleasantries as she guided him down the hall to Mac's room. When they reached the door, Mrs. Mackenzie frowned, and motioned him to go on in. He knocked quietly before pushing on the door.

Mac was lying diagonally across her unmade bed, staring up at the ceiling. She was wearing pajamas and there was a piece of yellow fabric balled up in her right hand. From her laptop came a morose melody that Wallace didn't recognize.

"Hey," she said, lolling her head to one side.

"How's it going?" he asked as he pulled her computer chair up next to the bed and sat down in it.

"Eh," she said, shrugging one shoulder. "Hey, do you want to have sex with me?"

Wallace choked. He looked down at Mac, who was looking back at him indifferently.

"Uh, I'll pass. Not because you're not pretty, you know, but…" Wallace's voice petered out as he realized he would probably just get himself in trouble if he continued.

"I get it. I was just thinking, that if I have sex with some guy within hearing distance of my parents, maybe they'll forget about their weird obsession with Dick and let me move back in."

"If that's the plan, definitely count me out," Wallace said. "I don't really feel like getting castrated today. Also, I don't know how your parents think, but if it were my mom, she'd just lock you in here forever—not send you back to another guy."

"I guess you're right," Mac said. "Sorry I made you blush."

"I wasn't blushing," Wallace huffed.

They didn't speak for a few minutes, the only sound in the room emanating from Mac's computer as a woman sang about giving up.

"I hate this," Mac said finally. "Being forcibly separated from Dick. It's stupid and…." She sat up and rested her chin on her knees. "I don't know when I'm going to get to give him his Christmas present."

Wallace looked at his friend guiltily. "I didn't realize how upset you were. You want me to bring him his present for you?"

Mac shook her head. "I haven't wrapped it or anything," she said, waving one arm lethargically in the direction of her desk. Wallace walked over and picked up the large picture frame lying there.

"I got it restored," she said.

Wallace nodded absently as he studied the picture. Dick, about age seven, had his arm tightly around Beaver's shoulders, and he was grinning, widely and goofily, with his eyes squeezed shut. Beaver was laughing at Dick and had his hand on Dick's arm. They looked like two normal brothers, having fun together.

Wallace stared at the picture for a minute before finally turning back to Mac.

"Hey, Mac, I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"Not giving you guys enough credit. I thought you were just video game buddies."

Mac smiled sadly. "No, not everything is about Mortal Kombat."

Wallace sat back down. "So you want to go to a movie or something? Get your mind off everything?"

Mac shook her head and flopped back down on her bed. "I'm not in the mood. Sorry, maybe later."

Wallace nodded. "You want me to hang around? We could talk, you could teach me to braid your hair?"

Mac gave him a half-hearted smile but shook her head. "Thanks anyway."

Wallace nodded again and walked toward the door. "Call me if you need anything." He pulled on the partially ajar door and saw Mr. Mackenzie standing in the hallway, looking upset. He was looking in the room at where his daughter lay, supine again, looking as if all the air had been let out of her.

Next Chapter: Sometimes You Can't Make it On Your Own

A/N: Sorry about the short chapters...next one will be up soon!


	14. Sometimes You Can't Make it on Your Own

On New Year's Eve, Mac sat at her desk in her room, not feeling particularly celebratory. She had put on her party dress, but when Wallace had come to collect her for their night out, she had sent him away. She just wasn't in the mood.

There was a knock on her door, and she spun slowly in her desk chair to see her father in the doorway. She tried to muster a convivial smile.

"Hi, Dad," she said.

"Hi, honey. What are you still doing here? I thought Wallace was coming to get you," he said.

Mac shrugged. "I didn't feel like going out."

"But it's New Year's Eve. I thought college kids lived for New Year's Eve."

Mac shrugged again, feeling foolish that even her father thought she should be out. "I guess. I went out last year," she said, more to herself than to her father.

Her father sighed as he sat down on her bed.

"Alright," he said. "I've got one more present for you. Your mother and I have been going back and forth on this for a while, but here it is."

He handed her a small, unwrapped box.

Mac took it uncertainly. When she removed the lid of the box, she sucked in a breath when she saw the key that he had taken from her when she moved back home. She looked up at him, moved nearly to tears.

"Really?" she asked. He nodded. Mac was out of her chair in an instant, her arms around her father's neck. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," he said. "But if we find out about anything happening that shouldn't be, you're coming home again. I mean it, Cindy."

"Sure, fine," Mac said, hopping up and down a little, unable to keep the grin off her face.

"Good," her dad said. "Now, please, go have some fun."

* * *

When Mac pulled up outside the house fifteen minutes later, she was surprised to see Dick's truck in the driveway. She had figured that he either wouldn't be home or that the entire street would be lined with the cars of his party guests. Thinking that he had probably gotten picked up by a friend, Mac walked slowly up the front path, appreciating the too-long unseen view of the house.

She opened the front door.

"Whoa," she said quietly. She held her fingers under her nose to keep out the smell of overripe garbage. A gloomy Coldplay song was coming from the stereo. She put her bag down by the door and knelt to start picking up the takeout boxes that were littered over the floor.

"Dick?" she called. "Ah!" She jumped when his head poked up over the back of the couch.

"Mac!" he exclaimed.

"What are you doing?" she asked, although when she saw the almost-empty liquor bottle in his hand, the answer to that question became obvious to her.

"You came back!" he said, staggering a little as he stood up and moved toward her, the bottle slipping from his hand onto the carpet.

"My dad said I could move back in," Mac said. Dick looked at her for a minute, apparently lost for words, and then he threw his arms around her in a bone-crushing hug. Mac wiggled around until she had enough freedom of movement to pat his back a little.

He let her go but still kept a hand on her shoulder.

"I was gonna tell you something, but I forget what," he said.

"Maybe you'll remember later," Mac said with a shrug.

"That's a pretty dress," Dick said.

"Thank you."

"Hey where's your stuff?" Dick said, starting to head for the door. "Let's move you back in."

"Well I didn't bring all of it tonight," Mac said, staying him with one hand on his chest. Dick's face fell. "I did bring you your Christmas gift, though!" she added quickly.

Dick slapped a hand to his forehead and fell back a little from the force of it. "I have your present! Wait here!"

Mac did not wait there—she followed Dick closely, since she was more than a little worried that he would fall down the stairs. When he made it upstairs safely, she looked around his room and saw that its state had deteriorated quite a bit since she'd been there last. He picked his way through the detritus of old food containers, beer bottles, and dirty clothing to retrieve a sloppily wrapped package from the table next to his bed.

Mac took the package from Dick and opened it carefully. When she finished, she didn't say anything, just stared down at the book in her hands.

"D'you like it?" Dick asked, swaying just a little on his feet.

He had gotten her a copy of _Nine Stories_, by J.D. Salinger, her favorite author. She already had a copy, of course, but the fact that he took the time to find out what she liked and get it for her made a strong wave of affection for Dick wash over her.

"Thank you, Dick," she finally managed.

"I was gonna get _Catcher in the Rye_, but finding a book signed by a recluse is _hard_, so, hadda take what I could get."

"Wha—?" Mac opened the front cover and her mouth fell open when she saw the small, slanted signature there. "Oh, wow, Dick," she said. "This is unbelievable. Thank you so much."

"You like it," he said with a drowsy smile, leaning heavily against his desk.

"It's wonderful," she said, stepping forward to hug him tightly. As she pulled back he swooped in and gave her a kiss that landed on the corner of her mouth. Her skin tingled where his lips had been and she stared at him dumbly. He gave her one last dopey smile, then moved across the room to curl up in his bed.

"Happy New Year, Mackie," he said, before his eyelids drooped and he began to snore.

Next Chapter: Hangover City, Population: Dick


	15. Hangover City, Population: Dick

The next morning Dick woke up feeling as though he'd been hit in the back of the head with a two-by-four. He burrowed his head underneath his pillow and rearranged his tingling arms until he felt one of them knock against something cold. He lifted the corner of his pillow and saw a pot in his bed. Beyond that there was a bottle of water and some aspirin. He shut his eyes and tried to remember if he had been coherent enough to prepare himself for what he knew would be a crappy morning. Probably not. Logan could have done it. His friend had been bringing him food, since he seemed to understand how much it must suck to be brooding without room service.

Dick turned over again, trying to find a position that would soothe the ache in his head. He frowned, staring up at his sun-dappled ceiling. He wished he could remember what had happened before he went to bed. This was his first blackout since before Mac had moved in.

Mac.

Something about Mac.

It itched at the edge of his brain but he couldn't find the fact he was trying to remember. Was she there, in the house? He steeled himself and got out of the bed, lurching to the side a little as he regained his equilibrium.

"Mac?"

He walked out of his room and into hers, but it was as empty as it had been the day before.

He walked out into the hallway.

"Mac?" he called again. A moment passed. "Freakin' A," he said to himself as he turned to stagger back into his room. He crashed onto his bed and let himself fall back asleep.

* * *

Mac walked in the front door with an armful of groceries, calling out to Dick. When he didn't answer, she proceeded into the kitchen to put away the groceries.

She had already taken out all the old garbage the night before and cleaned up the living room this morning. Now she opened up the patio doors to let in the sunlight and the fresh salt air. Even though she'd spent it cleaning up, she couldn't help but feel that this year's New Year's was way better than last year's.

As she opened the fridge to put away the milk, she noticed the whiteboard that still hung there.

'Dick—

Buy groceries. I won't keep bringing you food.

—Logan.'

She smiled and made a mental note to do something nice for Logan. Maybe she could do something about his standoff with Veronica.

She put her purchases away and popped an 'everything' bagel into the toaster. She put strawberry jelly on one side and Fluff on the other, the way she knew Dick liked it. She was pulling a Gatorade out of the fridge when something hit her hard from behind and she shrieked.

When she felt warm arms clamp around her, she let out a sound that was half-relieved sigh, half-laugh.

"Morning, Dick."

"I thought I made it up that you were here last night."

She smiled and decided not to tell him that he needed a shower. Instead she just squirmed out of his arms and turned around. "Nope, I'm real." She held up the Gatorade. "Here, you're dehydrated."

"Artic blue," he said with an approving nod.

"I just want to say, I find your breakfast to be disgusting, and this is the last time I'll be making it for you," Mac said.

Dick sat down to his meal with a contented smile. Mac was searching through the fridge for the yogurt she'd bought when she heard him speak around a mouthful of bagel.

"Hey," he said. "Happy New Year."

Mac ignored the shiver that ran up her spine and turned to smile at him widely. "You, too."

* * *

Later that day, Mac borrowed Dick's truck and retrieved the rest of her stuff from her house. Dick had wanted to come with her, but she maintained that it might be too much for her parents to see him taking her stuff out of their house. Instead, she told him to clean his room and air it out so it wouldn't smell so strongly of sweat and boy and stale beer.

She and Dick had all her stuff moved back up to her room by midday, and Mac was carrying two empty boxes out of her room when Dick called her back.

She walked back to the doorway and saw him sitting in one of the boxes, his knees pulled up to his chest.

"Look, Mac!" he said. "It's a Dick in a box!"

She laughed and he beamed at her. His face at that moment looked so much like the childhood picture she had of him that she remembered she hadn't given him his present yet. She said as much to him.

"You're back here, you made me a kickass breakfast, what else could there be?" Dick asked, struggling to lift himself out of the box. After a few attempts to extricate himself, he finally grabbed hold of one of the corners and ripped the box down its side. He rolled out of the cardboard shell and into a crouching position.

Mac rolled her eyes at his antics as she slid the wide, flat package out from where she'd put it between her bed and her nightstand.

"Here," she said. "I hope you like it."

He tore away the wrapping without preamble, only pausing when he got his first glimpse of Beaver's face. He removed the rest of the wrapping paper and stared down at the photograph in front of him. For a few long seconds, Mac thought she had done something horribly inappropriate. Then an expression appeared on Dick's face that she'd never seen there before. It was a calm, wistful smile, full of affection and with only a hint of sadness. He looked fondly at the picture for a few more seconds before looking back up at Mac, the expression never wavering.

"Thanks," he said simply. "Come on," he said, turning and walking quickly out of the room. Mac followed him as he jogged down the stairs and over to the fireplace. He placed the frame carefully on the left side of the mantel.

"Where did that come from?" Mac asked, pointing to the frame on the right side. It was her kindergarten picture, the one that had sat on her desk before she moved out.

"Your dad came by while you were at your house."

"You're kidding," Mac said.

"Nope. Didn't say much, just that he was keeping an eye on me. I'm pretty sure that is supposed to be a warning," he said, motioning toward the picture frame. "You know, a 'Don't mess with my little girl or I'll eviscerate you' type thing."

Mac considered the mantel with her head tilted, as she stood shoulder to shoulder with Dick.

"We need one of us now," she said.

Dick nodded. "We'll get Ronnie to take one later."

Next Chapter: Cupcake, You are My Everest

* * *

A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry again for such short chapters, but some of the upcoming chapters are my favorites, so I should be updating pretty quickly. I hope you're enjoying the story--let me know what you think!


	16. Cupcake, You Are My Everest

Dick got out of the shower and pulled on shorts and a t-shirt. He headed for his room and through his French doors saw the lights Mac had strung up on their balcony shining in the twilight. He opened his doors and walked outside.

"Hey," he said.

Mac looked over. "Hi," she said. It was much warmer now than it had been when she'd first come back. She was wearing shorts and a thin sweatshirt. She was slouched in one of the chairs she'd put out there, and her feet were propped up on the guardrail. Her long ponytail was pulled over her shoulder and it snaked down between her breasts. Dick kept his eyes off of her exposed legs and instead examined her face. She looked pale beneath her freckles.

He sat down in the other chair and spread out his legs, his left one within inches of brushing against her bare thigh. She was twisting the ring on her right hand and looking out at the crashing waves. She didn't have the same glow she'd had when she first came back.

"How's your day?" he asked, taking a long pull on the soda he'd opened before he got into the shower. It was flat by now.

"Okay," she said. She looked over and said, "You should rinse your mouth out after you drink that. The acid will strip your teeth's enamel."

Dick looked at the soda. "Really? That's good to know. Got any other useful information?"

"Wear sunglasses," she said. "Light eyes are more susceptible to damage from the sun."

"What would I do without you and your random facts?" Dick said.

"I think you'd be fine, even if your eyes and teeth did suffer."

Dick nodded, looking out at the endless water and the effects of the dying sun on its surface.

After a moment he turned his head toward Mac.

"I'm glad you're here," he said.

She looked over and smiled softly. "Me, too."

* * *

Dick strolled down the boardwalk, meandering past the tables where different wares were being proudly displayed. He picked up a ceramic picture frame, examined it, and tossed it back with the rest, much to the anger of the woman selling them.

He brought a hand up to look around and see if anything else caught his eye. It was pretty bright out. He scanned the stands quickly and spotted a table with dozens of pairs of sunglasses laid out on top of it. He strode over and quickly selected a pair of dark-lensed aviators.

"Nice choice," the bald man behind the table said as Dick handed him his money.

Dick slid the glasses into place and said, "Just call me Maverick."

The man chuckled.

"Did you know lighter eyes need more protection from the sun?" Dick asked him.

"Really?" the man said. "Like, scientifically?"

Dick shrugged. "I don't know, probably."

"Huh," the man replied. "Good to know for when I'm trying to make a sale."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Dick said as he lost interest with the conversation. The thing about the eyes had been one of the only things Mac had said to him in like a week, and he was starting to worry. Luckily, at that moment he spotted the answer to his problem.

He jogged through a henna tattoo station and over to the benches in front of the coffee place on the corner.

"Hey Ronnie, can I ask you a question?"

Veronica looked up at him from underneath her brunette bangs.

"Excuse me? I think you're mistaking me for someone else. My name is Mallory," she told him in a lilting Southern accent.

Dick looked at the guy sitting on the bench with her, who was looking confused and suspicious. Dick rolled his eyes behind his new shades and walked into the coffee place.

He bought a soda and watched through the window as Ronnie worked her pixie spy magic on the guy, then when they finally got up and parted ways, Dick ran outside.

"Now can I ask you a question?"

"Dick, let me ask _you_ a question. Why, when I am clearly wearing a _disguise_, would you think it would be a good idea to come up and call me by my real name?"

"It's about Mac," Dick said, and Veronica gaped at him and then mimed throttling him. He stared at her until she stopped. She could be so weird.

Veronica sighed. "Fine, what's your question?"

"I think she's sad."

"Your question is you think she's sad?"

"Well, my question is twofold: why do you think she's sad, and what can I do to make her happy again?"

Veronica sat back down on the bench and Dick joined her.

"What makes you think she's sad?" she asked.

"She hasn't been talking much, and she spends most of her time in her room, and she wouldn't play Xbox with me the other day."

"Maybe she just doesn't like you anymore," Veronica said.

"No," Dick said. "That's not it."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm Dick. I get into people's system, and then they can never get rid of me. And they don't want to."

"So you're like a parasite."

"Yeah, but like a fun one," he said with a nod.

Veronica looked off into the distance, brushing some brown hair out of her face.

"You know, her birthday's coming up," she said.

Dick nodded furiously. "Yes! That's it! That's why she's all withdrawn! You really are a genius, Ronnie—next time Logan says that, I'll believe him instead of saying he only thinks that 'cause he's in love with you. See ya!" Dick took off for his truck, leaving a stammering, bewigged Veronica in his wake.

* * *

A few days later, Dick hummed to himself while he prepared his surprise for Mac.

"Hey, roomie!" he called up the stairs.

"Yeah?" came Mac's flat reply.

"C'mere, I've got something for you!"

"What is it?" Mac asked warily.

"You won't know 'til you come down!"

A moment later, Mac poked her head around the corner and Dick turned so she wouldn't see what he had, and then told her to go sit on the couch.

"And shut your eyes!" he added.

He crept into the room silently, holding her gift up in front of him. She still had her eyes shut, and he pressed a button that filled the room with a flash.

"What the—" she started, her eyes flying open in surprise.

"Say cheese, Mackie!" Dick said as he took another picture of her.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Giving you your birthday present," Dick said. "It's a camera."

"I can see that," she said.

"Now we don't have to get Ronnie to take a picture—we can do it!" he said.

Mac still wasn't smiling and Dick felt his spirits start to fall.

"You don't like it?"

That seemed to snap her out of it and she reached for the camera. "No, it's a great present, Dick, thank you."

"Welcome," he said, studying her with a smile. "You feel any better now?"

Mac looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged, sitting down in the chair opposite the couch. "You've seemed a little off."

Mac looked down at the camera in her hands. "Sorry," she said. "I didn't realize I was being so obvious."

They sat in silence for a minute, Mac looking thoughtful and Dick watching her.

"Can I ask you a question?" she said finally.

"Shoot."

"Why did you date Madison Sinclair?"

Dick had not expected that. He scratched his face as he thought about it.

"Uh…I guess primarily because she was hot."

"That was your only reason?" Mac said, sounding unsurprised but a little disappointed.

"Well," Dick said, folding his hands and leaning forward in his chair. "I don't know, I guess it also kind of felt like I was supposed to."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Her dad used to do some finance stuff for my dad's company, so I'd see her all the time when we were little. My mom was always really keen on the idea of me being with a girl from a good family, so maybe some of that sunk in or something by the time we were older."

Mac nodded, looking deep in thought.

"Hey," Dick said. "I just realized that if things had been different…"

"Please don't finish that thought," Mac said quickly.

Dick tried not to feel hurt at her reaction. She seemed to realize what she'd said then and continued, "All the what-ifs are tough to think about," she said.

He nodded, feeling mollified. "Hey, know what might cheer you up?" he asked, darting into the kitchen.

"What?" she called as he lit a match.

"Surprise!" he said a moment later, reentering the living room and carrying with both hands a cupcake bigger than Mac's head. It had an enormous turret of chocolate frosting on top, with a lit candle sticking out of it at a dangerous angle.

"Happy birthday!" he shouted, and this time Mac grinned back at him.

"It looks delicious," Mac said. "And totally worth the resulting diabetes."

"Oh, whatever," Dick said. "You've been getting too skinny anyway. Dig in!"

Dick produced a pair of forks from his pants pocket and together they attacked the cupcake.

Twenty minutes later they both flopped back on the couch, totally stuffed, with about half the cupcake remaining on the table.

"It's like it's taunting us," Dick said, staring at the cupcake contemptuously.

"We'll finish it off," Mac said gravely. "When it least expects us, we'll get it."

Dick snorted in amusement.

"Ugh, I can't even look at that picture." Mac said, using her foot to point out her kindergarten picture on the mantel. "Little me would be appalled at what a pig I am."

"You know," Dick said. "I accidentally learned a new word the other day, and I'm pretty sure it applies."

"Oh yeah?" she asked.

"Yep. Beatific," he said, while Mac made an impressed noise. "That right there," he said, pointing to the picture, "is a beatific smile."

He turned to face Mac, who was beaming up at him.

"And there's another one," he said with an answering smile of his own.

Next Chapter: No Boys Allowed

* * *

A/N: I added some stuff to this chapter right before posting it, so if you notice any inconsistencies, that's why. Also, did anyone else notice how much thinner Tina Majorino got between the second and third seasons? Just thought I'd point that out. If she kept going at that rate, she'd def be in need of a cupcake. Next chapter(s) will be up soon. Hope you enjoy!


	17. No Boys Allowed

A few weeks later, Mac was not smiling. She stood in the kitchen, cutting up a salad for her dinner and frowning down at the vegetables in front of her.

Dick sauntered in and sat down at the counter.

"Hey-o," he said. "Whoa, what's with the look?"

"No look," Mac said tightly.

"You've got a look," Dick replied.

For a few seconds the only sound was Mac chopping rather viciously at her vegetables, and then she sighed and said, "I saw Max today."

"Did you kick him in the face?" Dick asked.

That got a laugh from Mac as she turned to pull a tomato out of the vegetable crisper. "No," she said. "Why, do you think he should be kicked in the face?"

"Uh, yeah," Dick said. "It's not right, what he did to you. Even I know that."

"I can't really blame him," Mac said.

Dick scoffed. "Well, I can. That guy is a grade-A douche."

Mac shrugged, hoping Dick wouldn't pick up on how uncomfortable she really was. "I saw a picture of Wendy, and Veronica told me about her, so I can say pretty objectively that she's hot and sweet. Can't compete with that, really."

Dick was frowning. He reached past Mac to grab an apple out of the fruit bowl on the counter.

"Look at it this way," he said. "If you were too sweet, I wouldn't like you."

Mac laughed a little.

"And there's no way that chick's cuter than you," he said, around a mouthful of apple.

Mac rolled her eyes. "I forgot, you're the ass expert."

"Yeah, but I'm also a Mac expert," he said, grinning at her rakishly. She suppressed a smile as he backed out of the kitchen, pointing at her and saying, "You're hot, Mackie, get used to it."

Mac shook her head with a smile as she continued to prepare her meal. Her cell phone rang and she quickly wiped her hands and answered after seeing Veronica's number on the screen.

"Hot ass hotline," she said.

"Oh, hello," Veronica said, rolling with it. "I'd like some hot ass, please?"

Mac laughed. "How are you?"

"Good. Care to explain your greeting?"

"It's nothing. I saw Max today and Dick tried to cheer me up in his own special way."

"I see. How were things with Max?"

"As well as can be expected. We didn't really talk."

"I can relate," Veronica said. "I saw Piz today."

"Where?"

"In the dining hall," she said. She sighed. "It's too bad, because he really is a nice guy."

"Yeah, but you're Veronica Mars. Any old nice guy isn't going to cut it for you," Mac said.

"I guess. I made the right choice, right?"

"Absolutely. To tell you the truth, if it had gone on much longer I was going to put you out of your Pizery."

Veronica snorted, then said, "Ugh, I feel like crap."

"If it helps, so do I," Mac said.

"Okay," Veronica said. "How do we feel less like crap?"

Mac pondered the question. "We could have a sleepover," she said, half-jokingly.

There was a second of silence, and then Veronica said, "That could be fun. I haven't had one in years."

Knowing that her friend was thinking of Lilly, Mac smiled sadly and spoke up. "I think we're allowed one totally clichéd, all-out girls' night with gossip, crappy romantic comedies and more junk food than our systems can handle," she said.

"Slumber party?" Veronica asked.

"Slumber party," she said with a decisive nod.

That night, Mac brought all the sugary food in the house up to the master suite and taped a piece of paper to the doors that read "No Boys Allowed."

* * *

Logan watched Dick jog over to where he sat in his Range Rover, rolling down the passenger-side window. Dick reached the car and leaned heavily on the door.

"What up," he said.

"Just cruising," Logan said. "Want to do something?"

"Sure," Dick said. He opened the car door and hopped in the passenger seat, and Logan pulled away from the curb. "Not like I can do anything in my own house with Ronnie and Mac having their little sleepover."

Logan hit the brakes. "Sleepover?" he said.

Thirty seconds later, Logan was jogging up the stairs in Dick and Mac's house, with Dick following closely behind.

"Seriously, dude," Dick was saying. "Mac said I was supposed to stay away because it's their girls' night."

"Would you relax?" Logan said. "They're not going to mind if we stop by to say hi. Try as she might to deny it, Veronica loves me, and Mac has a soft spot for you, for some reason."

Logan tried not to feel bad about manipulating Dick as he saw the goofy smile on his friend's face. Then he cursed inwardly when he saw Dick's face change into one of determination.

"Nuh-uh. Mac said no. Look," he said, pointing to the sign on the door.

"That says there's no boys allowed," Logan said. "We're men."

He pushed open the door, only to see an empty room. He frowned back at Dick, who shrugged.

"Bathroom?" Logan said.

"Why would they be…" Dick trailed off and his eyes went unfocused.

Logan turned and grabbed Dick by the shoulders.

"Dick, look at me," he said. "Is there a hot tub in there?"

Dick nodded. Logan let out a whoosh of air from his lungs and moved toward the bathroom door, with an unresisting Dick right behind him.

Logan cracked the door open and stilled when he heard the girls talking. The tile in the room amplified their voices so that he and Dick could easily make out what they were saying, even over the sound of the jets. Logan sat down next to Dick to listen.

"—if he hadn't gotten there in time," Veronica was saying.

"I try not to think about it," Mac said. "I've had a nightmare or two about it, but I just remind myself that he did get there."

"I never thought I'd be so grateful to Dick," Veronica said, and Logan looked over to see Dick looking at the floor with a look of tremendous pride on his face. "I was so scared, Mac."

"I know," Mac said.

"No," Veronica said. "I wouldn't have been able to handle it."

Logan felt a surge of protectiveness swoop into his belly. He wanted nothing more than to make sure Veronica never had to worry again.

"Lilly died," Veronica continued shakily. "And I thought that was the worst thing that was going to happen—that could ever happen. But somehow, everyone I care about has been put in these horrible situations. My dad got lit on fire, then he almost got blown up, Wallace almost got shot, you've been through more than anyone should, and Logan…." Veronica trailed off.

"I know you miss him," Mac said, and Logan could have kissed her for it, if he didn't think Dick would come over all possessive of his roommate.

"Yeah," Veronica said quietly.

"I'm sorry things didn't work out with Piz," Mac said after a moment of silence.

"Eh," Veronica said. "You win some, you lose some. But Piz was never the guy."

"Who is the guy?" Mac asked, a hint of mischief in her voice. Logan resolved to send her flowers the first chance he got.

"I think…" Veronica started, then stopped. Then she heaved a giant sigh. "I don't know…If I think about it too much, I'll just drive myself crazy," Veronica said.

Logan had heard enough. He crashed through the door and around the corner. Mac and Veronica whipped their heads around to face him, identical looks of shock on their faces.

"It's me! I'm the guy!" he yelled. His focus was entirely on Veronica - he only dimly registered the sight of Dick grabbing Mac by the arm and pulling her out of the tub and out of sight.

"Face it, Mars," he said in a gentler tone, when the other two had left. "I'm the smartass that you need, and you're the girl I'm going to love for the rest of my life. If you can't accept that, then it looks like I'm going to have to leave the country, because it's killing me to see you all the time and not be able to touch you."

Veronica was still in the Jacuzzi. She stared open-mouthed at Logan, for once lost for words.

"We're supposed to be together," Logan continued. "And I know you feel it, too. Epic love stories don't just end. They don't just fade away. They explode or they last forever. So what's it gonna be—A or B?"

Veronica stared at him for a few more agonizing seconds, then she lifted her chin, and in a clear, strong voice, said, "B."

If she hadn't been so quick, Logan would have gotten right into the hot tub with her, clothes and all. As it was, Veronica was out of the Jacuzzi and in front of him before he could even take a step.

"B," she repeated.

He looked down at her beautiful face and grinned.

"Is that your final answer?" he asked.

"Maybe I should ask the audience," she said, nodding toward the corner, behind which two heads of hair immediately disappeared: one white-blonde, the other brown and purple.

"They're never any help," Logan said, shaking his head as he leaned down to kiss her again, finally.

Mac and Dick stared at each other with huge, disbelieving smiles on their faces. They crawled quietly out of the bathroom, shutting the door to give their friends their privacy.

"Wow," Mac said. "We just witnessed a Logan-Veronica reconciliation. One of nature's greatest phenomena—very rare, but totally worth the wait."

"About time," Dick said. "I thought we were going to have to trap them in a well or something."

She beamed at him.

Dick smiled back but his face went slack when he looked away from Mac's face and took in the sight of her, kneeling next to him in her bikini. She was still dripping wet, her skin shining in the soft light of the bedroom. There was even a faint line of froth still clinging to her arm. Dick reached out and wiped it away with one finger. Mac shivered, and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"I'm cold," she said. "I should get dressed." She got to her feet and headed for her room. "And I thought I said no boys allowed," she said over her shoulder as she walked out.

Dick stared after her. Finally, he swallowed and said faintly, "We're men."

Next Chapter: In the Doghouse

* * *

A/N: I know what some of you are thinking—finally! Well, I'm leaving on an extended vacation tomorrow, so I won't be able to update for a while, and I wanted to get in the LoVe before I went. I was going to update another chapter before my trip, but it leads right into a huge cliffhanger (with really no way around it), so I opted not to post it yet. And just to be clear, the conversation Mac and Veronica have in the hot tub is about the events that took place in the Great Graffiti Caper, the precursor to this story, so if you're confused, that's why. And as for the previous chapter, a few people wondered why Mac was so upset; I tried to get across that she was down about her switched-at-birth drama because of her birthday (a serious reminder). Sorry if I wasn't clear enough on that, and sorry for this ridiculously long note! I hope you enjoyed this chapter—let me know what you think of it!


	18. In the Doghouse

Two days after her and Veronica's sleepover, Mac woke up to the sound of the doorbell. She rolled out of bed to answer the door, because she would have bet her laptop that Dick wasn't getting up to do it. She descended the stairs and rubbed at her eyes as the doorbell chimed again. She looked out the peephole and then opened the door to Wallace's smiling face.

"Hey, superfly," he said brightly.

"You need a favor," she surmised.

His smile widened and he said, "Yeah. V and her dad had to answer the call of duty up in San Fran and she asked me to watch her baby, but she forgot I've got an away series this weekend."

Mac blinked her puffy eyes. "Wallace, if you're going to wake me up at an ungodly hour, at least speak in words I can understand."

"Can you take Backup while Veronica is out of town?"

Mac sighed as she noticed the huge dog sitting behind his legs. "I think I liked the other way better."

Wallace explained: The manager from the resort where Veronica and her dad had stayed over Christmas thought that her husband was cheating on her. She remembered Mr. Mars and called him to try to get proof. Veronica had liked the woman, and she demanded to go along, either to help with basic surveillance or to be cheat-bait, should it come to that.

"Can't Logan do it?" Mac asked, not caring that she sounded like a whiny child.

Wallace shook his head. "No pets allowed at the Grand, not even for their favorite long-term guest."

"Fine," Mac said, holding out her palm for the leash in Wallace's hand. He gave it to her and then retrieved Backup's food and dishes from his car.

Mac waved as Wallace drove away, then she looked down at the animal next to her.

"What am I going to do with you?" she wondered out loud. The dog cocked his head and she turned to let him into the house.

When Dick walked through the front door an hour later, she was sitting on the kitchen floor, leaning against the counter and absent-mindedly stroking Backup's head while he napped. The dog shot up at the sound of the door opening, and before Mac knew what was happening, he was running full-tilt at Dick. Dick gave a startled cry as the dog jumped on him, almost knocking him to the ground.

"What the hell?" he said to Mac, who just shrugged and quickly explained that they had to watch the dog for a few days.

"I think he likes you," she added. Backup was still nudging Dick's legs and wagging his tail ferociously. She noticed Dick was looking at her strangely, so she said quickly, "You don't have to do anything—I'll take care of him."

Dick shook his head as if to clear it. "No, it's not a big deal. It's just a few days, and he's trained, right? We just have to feed him and let him out."

Mac smiled at him, then asked, "Where were you? I thought you were still sleeping."

"Me and Logan hit the links," he said.

"You golf?" she said.

He nodded. "Since I was a kid. Big Dick thought it would be good for making business contacts."

"Huh," she said. Backup had finally gone back to his water dish. Dick moved closer to Mac to put his keys down on the table, and she was suddenly hit with the scent of him.

He'd smelled like a great many things in the time they'd lived together: sweat, his too-expensive shampoo, the ocean, wet dog—she hadn't asked about the last one. But this was new. She let her eyes fall shut as she breathed in deeply: once, twice, three times. He smelled of earth and sunshine and fresh-cut grass and springtime and she couldn't get enough of it.

She opened her eyes to find him giving her an odd look and she smiled sheepishly. "So what else is up?" she asked, eager to divert his attention.

He shrugged. "It's nice out. Want to hang out on the beach?"

Mac turned around to look out at the water, noticing as she did the dog staring longingly out the window.

"Yeah, let's," she said.

Twenty minutes later Mac was eating an orange and watching from her beach chair as Dick and Backup ran through the waves. It didn't appear to be the first time Dick had done this, which answered some questions about the day of eau de wet dog.

She sat in her beach chair and observed Dick: the graceful way he moved, the lean musculature of his body. His yellow board shorts were riding low as he chased the dog through the shallows; she was fascinated by the planes of his tanned chest. He looked over at her, grinning, and she waved. He headed toward her, the dog trotting loyally beside him.

Backup shook himself off when they had reached Mac, and she laughed and scrunched up her face as the water hit her. She knew her hair was probably kinking from the moisture, but Dick was collapsing next to her on the sand and she forgot to worry about it.

"I like dogs," he said simply.

"They like you, too, it seems."

She readjusted her one-piece and Dick got that funny look on his face again. Instead of trying to decipher what he was thinking, she smiled and asked, "How about some cold drinks?"

"That would be amazing," he said, groaning in anticipated pleasure.

Mac grabbed her purple cover-up and pulled it over her head, the light-as-air material floating down around her thighs. She smoothed down the fabric, loving the way it felt around her legs, and headed into the house.

She brushed the sand off her feet and entered the kitchen, throwing the remains of her orange in the garbage. She pulled a bag of lemons from the refrigerator and began to cut them up, only to be interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.

She was wiping her sticky hands on a dishrag when she opened the door and saw a tall, beautiful blonde girl on the other side.

"Hello," she said.

"Hi," the girl said, surprise evident on her face. "I think I might have the wrong house. I'm looking for Dick Casablancas."

Mac forced a smile onto her face. "No, he lives here. Come on in," she said. She walked back toward the kitchen and the girl followed. "I was just making some lemonade, would you like some?" Mac asked.

"No, thanks," the blonde said. "I'm doing that cayenne pepper water diet."

Mac had no idea how to respond to that, so she walked out the open back door and called out to Dick, who was throwing a stick into the waves for Backup to fetch. She motioned for him to come in, and he jogged up the beach onto the patio.

"Hey," he said. "You need help?"

Mac shook her head. "You have a visitor," she said, and Dick looked past her to see the girl, who was waving brightly at him.

"Oh," Dick said, and Mac thought that he looked a bit put-out. "Hi." A moment passed. "You changed your hair," he observed.

"Do you like it?" the girl said, swiveling her hips with her hands clasped behind her back.

Dick didn't answer. Mac looked back and forth, unsure of what to do. "I'm gonna—" she began, just as Dick opened his mouth to introduce her.

"Mac, this is Melinda," he said. "My…ex."

"Nice to meet you," Mac said. Backup ran in just then and shook himself off, spraying water all over Melinda, who squeaked and looked extremely unhappy about it. "Why don't I take the dog for a walk?" Mac said to Dick. "Give you two a chance to catch up." She grabbed Backup and headed toward the beach, smiling covertly and whispering, "Good dog."

Mac took her time walking down the beach with Backup, half-expecting to find Dick and Melinda _inflagrante_ upon her return. When she did get back to the house, Dick was waiting on the patio.

"Where'd you go, Guam?" he asked. "Come on, let's play Frisbee."

* * *

Next Chapter: When the Other Shoe Drops or Gets Thrown at You

A/N: I'm finally back! Thanks so much for the reviews and messages about the last chapter! I just realized thatI probably could have posted this before my trip—I guess I got confused about the order of the chapters. Lo siento! (Yeah, I spent some time in Spain and it kind of stuck. Oh and sidenote, I totally have a 'Dick and Mac go to Europe' story in the works.)

I know some people are probably wondering what happens in the scenes we don't see, especially the Dick-Melinda conversation, but I think it underscores the uncertainty that Mac must be feeling about it, because she doesn't see it either, obviously. Anyway, the gist of what happened will be revealed soon.

I hope you enjoy this chapter…it was difficult to come up with a compelling reason why Mac and Dick would have Backup, but I just couldn't get the image of Dick and the dog frolicking in the waves out of my head. And then I remembered the whole 'Dick got married' thing, and I just had to throw that in there, too. Let me know what you thought!


	19. When the Other Shoe Drops or Gets Thrown

Dick and Mac walked out of the elevator at the Neptune Grand and headed toward Logan's door.

"I hope they're not having sex," Dick said.

Mac nodded. "They've been back together for like two months; you'd think they'd be past the honeymoon phase."

"It gets longer every time," Dick said, rapping his knuckles against the door.

While they waited, Dick let his eyes slide over to Mac, who was standing with her arms crossed and one hip jutted out to the side.

Mac was a girl. A very cute girl who slept on the other side of his wall every night. At first, he wasn't bothered by thoughts or urges he might have about her—he figured those were inevitable, because he was Dick.

But then the night Ronnie and Logan got back together, he started to think those thoughts he was having might mean something after all, and he tried to train himself not to think that way, because she was the best girl friend he'd ever had. He learned to take any strong feelings about Mac and push them all into a little box at the back of his brain and lock them in there. Eventually, the desire to push her against the wall and have his way with her had subsided.

But now it was coming back.

She had straightened her hair that day and it hung down almost to the small of her back. Without thinking, he reached out and toyed with a lock of purple hair. Mac looked up at him in surprise, and he dropped the hair with a smile and a shrug. She smiled back uncertainly, then looked at the door, sighed, and banged her whole fist against it.

"It's open!" came Logan's muffled voice.

Mac and Dick exchanged a glance and, without a word, they both reached up to cover their eyes as they walked into the suite.

"It's okay to look," they heard Veronica say.

"Told you she'd be into that," Dick said to Mac, who laughed.

Dick felt something hit him in the chest and he dropped his hand to see Veronica glaring at him from the couch and a shoe lying at his feet.

"What happened to your face?" Veronica asked Dick as Logan walked in from the kitchen.

"This?" Dick said, motioning to the dark bruise on his forehead. "It's nothing. You should see the other guy."

"By 'the other guy,' he means the Wii controller he hit himself in the face with," Mac said.

"Left a dent," Dick said to Logan with a proud smile.

Dick walked over to the couch and settled in next to Mac, who was showing Veronica her new phone. Logan sat down on Veronica's other side, and he and Dick put their feet up on the coffee table in unison. Logan pressed play on the remote and they all turned their attention to the movie Mac had brought from their place.

Suddenly, as he looked over at his three closest friends (and yeah, Veronica was on the list, although she was definitely last), Dick felt simultaneously comfortable and uncomfortable. The uncomfortable feeling, he realized, was coming from the fact that he was so comfortable. A small voice in the back of his head that was either Cassidy or their troll of a high school English teacher told him that this might be irony or something.

Things were going too well. Logan and Veronica were sickeningly happy together, he and Mac were awesome as always, and the four of them were like the new Brat Pack or something. His instincts were screaming at him that in the world they lived in, this was the cue for something horrific beyond belief to happen.

That was why what happened the next day didn't really surprise him.

* * *

A/N: Ah ha ha haa!! I told you that would have been a heartless way to leave you guys for six weeks.

Sorry that it's so very short, but it just worked better this way. This is one of my favorite chapters, so I hope you enjoyed it. I'll update as soon as I can!

Next Chapter: A Friend in Need


	20. A Friend in Need

Dick was struggling to keep his mind from wandering as his tiny, wrinkly macroeconomics professor wrote notes on the chalkboard at the front of the classroom. He still couldn't shake his feeling from the day before—something bad was coming

His cell phone, sitting on the desk beside his notebook, lit up just as he was wondering if he should become a temporary recluse to avoid trouble.

He picked up the phone and hit the center button to view the text message he'd received from Logan.

"Veronica in hospital—not critical."

Dick heaved a sigh and put his hand over his tired eyes, relieved that Veronica hadn't gotten herself killed this time (for there was no doubt in his mind that she'd been working some case when this happened) and hopeful that this was as bad as the bad would get.

He looked at the time, saw that there were only ten minutes left in the class. He quietly shut his notebook and shoved his phone in his pocket, trying to be discreet as he got up to slide out the back door.

"Okay, class, that's enough for today. Mr. Casablancas, a word," Professor Brooks said, barely pausing between the two thoughts.

Dick stopped at the door, one hand still poised over the handle.

Slowly, he turned back around and trudged to the front of the classroom. Other students were filing out in the other direction, a few giving him sympathetic looks as they went.

"Sorry I was leaving," Dick said preemptively. "I just found out my friend is in the hospital and I was going to go see her."

"Oh, dear," the old man said. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thanks," Dick said, feeling awkward.

"I hate to add to your troubles," the man began. Dick shut his eyes. "But I need to tell you that your grades in this class are far below what they need to be."

Dick looked at the professor and pushed air out through his nose. "Uh, okay," he said, running a hand through his hair. He muttered to himself, "Guess it could be worse."

"I'm afraid it is," Brooks said. "I spoke to your advisor, who led me to believe that if you fail another class, you won't be eligible to come back to Hearst next semester."

Dick felt his stomach lurch. His mom may have used her connections to get him into school, but he doubted she would help him out a second time.

"The good news," the man was saying, "is that your final is worth enough to make the difference. I suggest you start studying now."

Dick walked out of the classroom building in a daze. He got in his car and headed for Neptune Memorial. He called Mac and found that she was on her way as well. When he pulled into the parking lot, he saw her waiting for him by the front doors.

Mac took one look at him and said, "What's wrong?"

"Tell you later," he said, and she let it drop.

They took the elevator upstairs and found Veronica's room. When they reached the doorway, Mac pushed it open with some trepidation and they both saw Veronica lying in a bed with her leg up in a sling and a stark white bandage wrapped around her head.

"Oh, wow," Mac said.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Veronica said. "I should already be out of here, but there's some back-up with x-rays or something."

"Oh, Veronica," Mac said, taking a seat next to the bed. "What happened?"

"It was that immigrant slave labor case we were working on," Veronica said. "They were going to destroy all the files, I had to get in there—they were going to get away with it!"

"Jesus, Veronica," Dick said. She narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to reply, but Mac cut in.

"Where's Logan?" Mac said. "And your dad?"

"Dad's on his way back here," she said. "After they said I was going to be okay, he went to the sheriff's department to make sure everything worked out with the bad guys. And Logan went outside. He said he needed to cool off." She looked down at her hospital gown. "He's pretty mad."

Dick shook his head, but held his tongue.

Mac looked up at him from her perch on her plastic chair. "Maybe you should go keep an eye on him," she said softly. Dick held her gaze for a minute, then nodded and headed for the door, happy to have an excuse to get out of there.

He made his way outside and wandered around to the back of the building, where he saw his friend sitting disturbingly still on a low wall.

Dick sat down next to Logan.

"Some day," he said.

Logan acknowledged him with a miniscule nod.

"But hey," he continued. "At least we didn't find out that like, Trina and my mom are killers, right?"

Logan snorted. "Thank God for small favors."

"To be honest, I felt it coming, and I thought it was going to be a lot worse," Dick said. For a moment he thought Logan might yell at him, but he didn't.

They sat without speaking for several long moments, until Dick couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"I might flunk out of school."

Logan picked at a scab on his hand and looked over at him with a mirthless smile. "Well, no one writes songs about the stuff that comes easy," he said.

"I don't want a song," Dick grumbled. "I just want a normal, uncomplicated life."

Logan sighed and clapped a hand on Dick's shoulder. "Dare to dream."

* * *

"So are you going to tell me now?" Mac asked Dick when the two of them got out of their cars in their driveway.

Dick opened his mouth to speak, then snapped his jaw shut and turned to go inside. He heard Mac's long-suffering sigh and the sound of her following him into the kitchen.

"Come on, Dick," she said as he rummaged through the refrigerator for something to drink. "It can't be that bad."

Dick turned around.

"I'm going to fail out of school," he said matter-of-factly.

Mac's eyes widened. "Oh," she said.

Dick slammed his soda can down on the kitchen counter. "I don't want to," he said fiercely. "I really don't want to, but my macro class is so hard."

He looked up at her. She was studying him, and he was shocked to find that she didn't seem disgusted by him. If anything, she looked like she might be proud of him. Dick felt confused.

"Okay," she said calmly. "Why don't you tell me the whole story?"

* * *

"It's hopeless," Dick concluded some time later. Mac was sitting Indian-style on the couch and watching him pace back and forth in front of her.

"It'll be okay," she said.

"Nope," Dick said. "I've been going to class and I still don't get the stuff. I'm going to fail. I always mess everything up."

With that, he plopped down at the other end of the couch.

"Dick," Mac said sternly. "Stop being so fatalistic."

"I don't even know what that _means_!" Dick moaned, grabbing a throw pillow and smashing it to his face.

"It means that you think you're going to fail. And if you think that way, you will," she said. "But you're not going to fail. For one thing, I'm going to help you. And for another, your professor knows that you go to class. He knows you've been trying, and I bet that will matter to him when he does the final grading."

"Any other things?" Dick said into the pillow.

"Yes, as a matter of fact," Mac said. "I know that you can do it."

Dick let the pillow drop and turned his head to look at her. She looked back at him, her eyebrows raised and her lips pursed in a classic Mac expression.

"Fine," he said.

"Okay," Mac said, seeming pretty self-satisfied. "Go get your stuff."

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now," Mac said. "It's largely procrastination that got you into this in the first place, so let's go."

Dick disappeared into his room and came back with a textbook, a notebook, and the class syllabus.

Mac read the syllabus quickly. "Okay, you should probably start by reading the chapters the test covers, then you can go back over the more confusing stuff later. Where's your planner? I'll start making a study schedule."

"Planner?" Dick repeated.

"Yeah, where do you write down all your assignments and tests and stuff?"

Dick gave her a blank stare.

"Okay, you go find the syllabus for each of your classes," Mac said, already across the room and fetching her car keys. "If you can't find them, email your professors for another copy. When you have all of them, sit down at the dining room table and start reading."

"What are you going to do?" Dick asked.

"I'm going to organize your life," she said as she walked out the front door.

Half an hour later she returned to find Dick hunched over his book at the dining room table. She sat down across from him, putting a shopping bag down beside her. She pulled out note cards, highlighters, and a day planner. She picked up one syllabus from the pile, and started to write down dates in the planner.

"This is now your life," she said some time later, holding up the small red book. "Before you do anything, you check your planner. I've spaced out what material you should cover between now and your macro final, counting in free time and time to work on stuff for your other classes."

Dick took the planner from her and flipped through it. He looked up at Mac, who seemed to think he was going to protest to the schedule. If the situation were any less dire, he might have.

"Okay," he said instead.

"Okay, that's it?" she said.

"Yeah," he said. "Thanks, Mackie. Make sure I stick to this, okay?"

"Yeah," she said, looking surprised and pleased. "Of course."

Next Chapter: But do your friends like him?


	21. But do your friends like him?

A week later, Mac was visiting Veronica, who was still recuperating from her latest brush with danger. Her plaster-covered leg was propped up on a pillow on the coffee table, and the bandage that wrapped all the way around her head had been replaced with a smaller dressing, although it still made Mac wince to look at it.

"And then he said that he really hated looking at me when I'm laid up like this, so I'm concentrating on getting better through sheer force of will," Veronica was explaining. "I tried to explain all of this to the doctors, but they wouldn't take the bandages off early, even though I had a note."

"A note you wrote?" Mac asked.

"No," Veronica said scornfully. "It was from my lawyer."

Mac shook her head. "And I thought the days of Cliff's Notes were behind us." She bit her lip and considered her friend. "You do you know that Logan is bothered by the thought of you being in danger, not because you have a goofy white thing stuck to your forehead, right?"

"I know," Veronica said with a sigh. "I promised him I won't rush into danger anymore, but I don't think he believes me."

Mac gave her a sad smile, and Veronica shook her head as if to clear it.

"Anyway, what's new with you?" she asked.

Mac shrugged. "Not a lot. Starting to study for finals. And surprisingly, Dick's not hindering the process."

"Do tell," Veronica said.

"He's very dedicated to passing his macro final," Mac said, hearing the hint of pride in her voice and hoping Veronica didn't.

"Well, good for him," her friend said sincerely. Mac waited for another comment or joke, but none came. She looked at Veronica for a moment, trying to read what she was really thinking, but the blonde was giving nothing away.

"Well, that reminds me," Mac said finally. "He sent this over," she said, producing a handheld video game from her bag. "For the boredom."

Veronica took the game and stared at it for a minute, then she smiled widely. "Tell him I said thank you very much."

Mac smiled back. "I will. And I should get going, let you get some practice on that thing. You know Dick will want to know what level you can get to."

Veronica gave her a salute and Mac waved and headed out the front door.

When she got home ten minutes later, she found Dick studying at the dining room table. It was a common sight by now, but she still smiled every time she saw how determined he was to stay in school (unlike some people she could mention).

Dick waved at her, barely glancing away from the book in front of him. He only looked up at her when she got two sodas out of the fridge and sat down across the table from him, sliding one of the drinks over to him and opening up a thick textbook of her own. He smiled and Mac winked at him before she flipped to the right page and started reading.

* * *

This was not good. Dick was trying to concentrate on the page in front of him, he really was. But Mac was being very distracting. He was pretty sure she wasn't doing it on purpose, but the way she frowned down at her book was totally engrossing, not to mention the way she was all twisted into a pretzel on her chair. Her hair had gotten really long, and when she leaned over her book it pooled in pretty swirls on the table. And then there was that _wink_. Why,_ why_ did she have to wink at him?

This was not good at all.

Next chapter: Logan Knows Best


	22. Logan Knows Best

Logan was beating Dick easily at their latest video game obsession. He looked over and saw that Dick had an uncharacteristic furrow in his brow. Leaning over, Logan punched him hard in the arm.

"What, dude?" Dick said. "I was thinking."

"I thought the point of this grudge match was to clear your mind before your test," Logan said, twisting the controller in his hands while he tried to decapitate Dick's character.

"I can't help it," Dick said.

"What's the problem?" Logan asked, making his character jump on Dick's neck.

Dick paused the game, and Logan looked over in surprise. Dick was silent for a minute, then looked over at his friend and shook his head.

"How come you and Ronnie got together?" he asked.

"Why?" Logan asked shrewdly. "What's going on?"

Dick swallowed. "It's about Mac," he said.

"Naturally," Logan said with a nod.

"Something happened the other day."

"What?"

"Okay, I was in the laundry room—"

"I thought you had your stuff sent out," Logan said.

"Well, you know how Mac's been helping me get ready for my test?"

Logan raised his eyebrows. "You're hot for teacher?"

"No—stop interrupting," Dick snapped. "I was in the laundry room because Mac stole my candy. She said the sugar didn't help me concentrate so she took it and she hid it and I thought she might have put it in there. So, I'm about to look around but then I notice there's a basket of her things on top of the dryer," he said, ending with a significant look.

"So?" Logan said.

"Her _things_," Dick said, with wide eyes.

"So you saw Mac's bras?"

Dick shook his head. "Underwear. And it's not like I haven't seen underwear before. I've seen it on, I've seen it off, I've seen it whole, I've seen it ripped, I've seen it—"

"Message received," Logan cut in.

"But Mac's stuff was…well it was mostly the kind of stuff you'd expect her to wear," he said.

"Bikini cut, bright colors?" Logan asked, and Dick nodded absently.

"But there was a couple of pairs," Dick continued, expelling a noisy puff of air. "Oh man."

"Thongs?"

Dick shook his head. "No, they were like these little boxer briefs for girls. But they had these ruffles that went all the way around…they reminded me of like…" he shot a quick look at Logan before finishing, "like unwrapping a cupcake, or something."

Logan whistled. "I never thought I'd quote Paris Hilton, but dude, that's hot."

"And now when I see her I can't stop wondering what pair she's wearing."

"Makes sense," Logan said. "You could ask her."

"I can't ask her," Dick said scornfully. "…Can I?"

"You've said worse," Logan said with a shrug.

"That's true," Dick said thoughtfully. "But it's not only the underwear thing. I mean, Mac's really pretty, but also she's really funny and nice and God knows she's smart."

"Yeah," Logan said. "She's a gem."

"She's just so cool, you know?" Dick said, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the smirk on Logan's face. "Like when I was studying and I got all frustrated and threw my phone against the wall. And most girls would be like, 'Ahh, what are you doing?'" he said, flailing his hands to illustrate his point. "But Mac just told me I threw like a girl and then helped me figure out the problem."

"The throwing like a girl problem?"

"No, the math problem. Jackass."

"So, you want to know how Veronica and I got together so you can know whether you should go for it with Mac," Logan said.

"Maybe," Dick said. "You think she would ever go out with me?"

Logan looked at his friend and chose his words carefully. "I don't know. She definitely likes you, but you guys do have a history."

Dick nodded. "You and Ronnie had a history, too, though. And hey, you guys hooked up after you came to get her when she got snatched—maybe I should have laid one on Mac when I got her."

"I'm not positive, but I think, at the time, she would have clawed your eyes out," Logan said.

Dick made a vague noise of assent, obviously lost in a daydream.

"Look, man," Logan said. "The first time Veronica and I got together, it just sort of happened. Try not to worry too much about you and Mac. If she likes you, too, then it'll probably happen eventually."

"I can't believe I have a crush on Beaver's girlfriend," Dick said.

"It's kind of weird," Logan conceded. "But it's not a huge obstacle."

"The weird thing is I kind of don't even think it's an obstacle," Dick said as he picked up his controller again. "She was like the only person who cared about him, and it makes me like her more."

Logan studied his friend and nodded slowly. "That makes sense," he said finally. Dick didn't seem to hear him. He was staring at the controller in his hand as though it held the answers to all of life's problems.

Logan was wondering whether he should unpause the game when all of a sudden Dick was off of the couch and on his way to the door.

"Dude," Logan said, caught off guard.

"Screw waiting it out," Dick said, turning around for just a second so that Logan could see the fierce look in his eyes.

Then the door slammed and Logan was alone in his suite. He sat for a moment, stunned, then blinked and picked up his cell phone, sending Dick a text that consisted of just one word:

"Godspeed."

* * *

Next Chapter: The Importance of Being Mac

A/N: Hello, everyone…long time no post, I know. My quick little weekend sojourn to my beach house turned into a several-weeks-long vacation when I ran into an old flame. It's a good story, maybe I'll tell it to you some time. Anyway, when I got back, I had a lot of trouble with these few chapters. There was a lot of extra stuff that just slowed them down, but then when I took it out they seemed to move too quickly…I don't know, I hope they came out alright.

Get excited though, because there are only a few more chapters to go! I'm thinking about possibly going on a cross-country road trip, but I promise not to take off again without finishing this story. Honest.


	23. The Importance of Being Mac

Dick walked out of the Neptune Grand, resolve making him stand tall and determination making the blood pump through his veins more quickly than normal. He was gonna go home and grab Mac, kiss the hell out of her, and tell her that she was really important—she had been important to Beaver, she was important to him now, and just, in the general scheme of life, she was important.

The tires of Dick's truck squealed as he pulled out of the lot and gunned the engine, speeding down the street and swerving slightly to avoid a pedestrian who had unwisely chosen that moment to try to cross the street. Imagining the look of adoration soon to be on Mac's face, he grinned to himself and leaned with the car as he made a sharp right turn.

His plan came to a cruel, stuttering halt when he had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting the unmoving wall of cars in front of him.

"Oh, _come on_!"

Letting his forehead fall onto the top of his steering wheel, he wondered why so many people were on the road at this hour on a Wednesday night, and why it was that he always seemed to hit traffic and Mac never did. Mac maintained that it was some sort of karmic retribution, but Dick was pretty sure she was just tricky in that she would listen to the traffic report before trying to get somewhere.

Twenty minutes and two yelling matches with other drivers later, Dick was able to turn off the clogged-up parkway and take back roads home.

When he finally pulled into the driveway and jumped out of the car, he slammed the door behind him and jogged over to the front door. He burst inside, half expecting Mac to be standing in the foyer waiting for him.

Instead he heard laughter coming from the kitchen. He frowned and moved silently along the side of the staircase to investigate. First he spotted some kid he didn't know, who was in his house late at night, leaning against his counter and drinking a can of his soda. He wanted to tackle the guy, but restrained himself in order to assess the situation and whether it warranted violence. He was kind of hoping it did.

He changed his angle of approach so that he could see Mac, who was perched on the kitchen counter, her head thrown back in laughter at something this guy had said. She was wearing dark jeans and a flowy sort of shirt, the colorful print making her look fun and free-spirited. Her hair was flowing down her back and if Dick hadn't been so angry he would have been completely captivated by how beautiful she looked.

He took a few silent steps forward, and the movement caught Mac's eye.

"Dick!" she said with a bright smile, her legs swinging in front of her. "Come in here. Jamie, this is my roommate, Dick. Dick, this is Jamie. Remember, he lives next door?"

Jamie said hello. Dick stared at him for a minute, then gave a curt nod.

"Are you okay?" Mac asked. "You look funny."

"I'm fine," Dick said.

"Are you sure? You looked like you had news or something."

"No," Dick said, already turning around to leave the kitchen. "Nothing important."

He retreated upstairs, going out onto their shared balcony and slamming the door behind him. He stayed out there, watching the obsidian waves come in and out, until a few minutes later when the back door opened and Jamie walked across the patio. Dick watched him head down to the beach to get back up to his own house. Right before he disappeared behind the fence, he paused and looked up to see Dick glaring at him fiercely. The younger boy jumped, startled, then looked away and kept walking. Dick stalked back through his room and down the stairs to the kitchen, where Mac was doing some dishes.

"So what's that all about?" Dick asked, not gently.

Mac jumped and spun around. "What?" she asked, not realizing that the latex gloves on her hands were dripping soapy water on the floor.

"Are you dating the neighbor boy?"

Mac started to laugh, but Dick didn't smile and her face fell.

"Dick," she started slowly. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing's going on with me," Dick said. "I just want to know if you're fooling around with the guy with the girly name who's still trying to grow facial hair." Silence fell over them heavily as they stared at each other. Mac looked devastated by his cold words, but soon set her mouth in a thin line.

"Not that it's any of your business," Mac said, biting out each word as she took a few steps forward, "but I have _no_ interest in Jamie."

"Why not? I thought you had a thing for younger guys," Dick said.

Mac's hand was a bright yellow blur as she flew forward and slapped him as hard as she could.

He stared at her, mouth open, one hand on his wet, stinging cheek.

"Don't pretend you didn't deserve that," she said as she walked past him and turned up the stairs. He heard her door slam and he immediately went and pulled a six-pack out of the fridge, then flopped down on the couch to brood.

* * *

Mac threw her still-dripping gloves against the wall in her room, then sat on her bed, going back and forth between wanting to cry and wanting to go downstairs and kick Dick in the groin. She finally buried her head underneath her pillow, yelled a little, and, exhausted in more than one sense, fell asleep.

The next morning she disregarded her own alarm, and Dick's from the next room over, just wanting to mope for a while. She figured she deserved it. When she did get up it was almost noon, and she hurried to get ready, wanting to make it to at least one of her classes that day. She went downstairs in jeans and a t-shirt, not even bothering to shower.

When she saw Dick lying facedown on the couch, she felt another surge of anger at the way he had treated her the night before. There was a collection of empty beer bottles on the coffee table, and she shook her head, still feeling stupid and betrayed after what he'd said to her.

She was walking toward the door when a sudden thought made her freeze in her tracks. Dick shouldn't be there. She pulled out her phone and checked the time, then darted over to the dining room table and picked up his macro syllabus.

Her mouth hung open as she looked down at the paper in her hand. Dick had missed his test. She turned to look at him again. He was still out like a light. She hesitated, bit her lip and then, with careful, controlled movements, put the paper down and walked out the door.

Next Chapter: How Could You?

A/N: Just a quick shout out—I wanted to say thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review this story. You guys are amazing. Next chapter will be up very shortly-- within the next 24 hours. Peace out playas!


	24. How Could You?

A musical beeping intruded on Dick's dream, and he tried to fight against the pulling tide of reality. He snuggled closer into the warmth at his side, throwing out an arm to try to push away his new cell phone and its annoying sounds.

Without opening his eyes, he wondered what the source of the warmth next to him was. For a moment he thought it might be Mac, although he didn't remember the two of them falling asleep together…in fact, he seemed to remember her being pissed at him for something…

He cracked an eye open and saw navy material. He sighed. The warmth was coming from the back of the couch. Still, he cuddled closer to it and rubbed his cheek against its softness. His cell phone beeped again, and he flung out an arm and grabbed it.

Logan's name was on the screen. Dick jabbed at the Send button.

"What?" he said.

"Hey man, how'd it go?"

"We got in a fight," Dick said wearily, burrowing his head under the couch pillow.

"I meant your test," Logan said, and Dick was off the couch and swearing at the top of his lungs before Logan got the last word out. Dick quickly disconnected the call to get to his phone's resting screen.

"Noooo," he moaned when he saw the time. "No, _dammit_!"

He ran around for a minute, not sure what he was doing, but feeling better than when he was standing still. He picked up a pen then threw it down again. He took out his phone and put it back in his pocket. He ran over to the kitchen table and picked up the syllabus, scanning the pages quickly and groaning loudly when he came to the part that said absolutely no make-up tests would be administered without a proper excuse given in advance.

"Okay," he said out loud, running a hand through his messy hair. "Don't panic. Stay calm. You can fix this. And if you do fail out, you can always be a male model."

He was fabricating an excuse that he hoped his professor might buy, when the front door opened.

"Mac!" he said, much more loudly than he had intended. "I slept through my test!"

"I know," she said calmly.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" he demanded. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, but Dick didn't really care. "I'm going to flunk out now!"

"No, you're not," Mac said. "Get your stuff together, you're taking the test in half an hour."

Dick stood stock-still for a minute. "Huh?" he finally managed.

"Come on," Mac said, snapping her fingers at him. "Wallet, phone, number two pencil, let's go!"

Dick jumped and ran around collecting his things. He followed Mac out the door and to her car. Dick studied while she drove, and they didn't say another word to each other until they got to the economics building.

"Uh," Dick said when Mac stopped the car.

"Don't," she said. "Just go take your test."

He started to reach out a hand to her, but she batted it away.

"Don't," she repeated. "I'm still mad at you."

Deciding to deal with one problem at a time, Dick got out of the car and ran to the nearest entrance. He burst into his professor's office a minute later, pencil out and mouth open to relay some excuse.

"Ah, there you are, Mr. Casablancas," Professor Brooks said. "If you'll have a seat, you can get started and we'll both be out of here sooner."

Dick desperately wanted to know why he was being allowed to make up the test, but he didn't want to push his luck, so he just followed the man's instructions. He took the blank test from his professor and sat down, shutting his eyes for a moment to clear his head of everything but his knowledge of the material. Reminding himself that he was more prepared for this test than any exam he'd ever taken before, he opened his eyes and focused on the first question.

* * *

Over an hour later, he put the test down on Brooks' desk.

"Uh, thanks for the second chance," he said awkwardly.

"Well I didn't have much of a choice, did I?" the old man asked, giving him a roguish wink. Dick, having no idea what he meant, just laughed nervously and backed out of the office.

"What the hell just happened?" he said as he walked down the hall.

He wondered to himself where Mac was—at the house, or with Veronica, or in the library? He needed to find her and apologize for his jackassery the night before.

He walked the campus, keeping an eye out for purple-streaked hair. He spotted Logan and Veronica sitting together in the bleachers of the football field and smirked, but didn't go to say hi.

He saw Wallace, and Mac's old roommate Parker, and asked them if they'd seen her. He even saw Piz and, remembering his first real fight with Mac, tried to smile genuinely at him, even as he thought to himself that the guy was a toolbag.

Finally, across one of the smaller stretches of grass on campus, he spotted her sitting underneath a flowering tree with a book and her iPod. Feeling that his manly pride could take a hit if it meant Mac would forgive him, he leaned over and grabbed a daisy out of the ground before striding across the lawn to reach her.

She looked up when his shadow fell across the pages of her book. She took out her headphones and stood up.

"How'd it go?" she asked, at the same time that he said, "I'm sorry."

She bit her lip. He took a small step forward, put a hesitant hand on the side of her neck, and tried again. "I shouldn't have said that stuff. I screwed up, again, and I'm really sorry."

He held up the flower with a small shrug. She hesitated for a moment, then took the blossom from him.

"Give me another chance?" he said, trying to give her a winning smile.

She nodded after a long moment. "Yeah," she said.

He looked back at her, marveling at how much forgiveness one person could have in her.

"I don't deserve a friend like you," he said, no longer trying to win back her favor. It was just a realization he'd come to.

Mac shook her head and said, "Come on, Dick, that's not true."

Before he knew what he was doing he had pulled her to him in a tight hug, not caring that he was probably the least manly man ever to be called Dick. When he let her go, she looked like she didn't know what to do with herself. Dick wasn't sure himself.

"Sorry I slapped you," she said after a minute.

"It's okay," he said. "You were right, I did deserve it."

"I'd never slapped anyone before that," she said.

"I wouldn't have guessed that," he said with a smile. She smiled cautiously back at him.

The warm breeze that had been blowing past them gathered strength and rustled the branches of the tree above them, sending a flurry of petals into motion. They fell from their places and circled Mac in a near-perfect twister formation as the wind eddied around her and Dick.

He was really glad when Mac spoke up because if she hadn't he was going to fall back on his old standby of saying whatever he was thinking, and at that moment he was thinking that she looked like a Disney princess.

"So how did the test go?" she asked.

He shook his head slightly and gave her a lopsided smile. "It was like the best test ever," he said. "I never knew so many answers in my life."

Mac beamed at him. "Really?" she asked.

"Totally," Dick said. "I'm totally buying you a diamond or something."

"How about a new external hard drive?" Mac asked.

"Done," he said. He smiled down at her. "Thank you for all your help," he said. "And for getting Brooks to give me another chance."

"You're welcome."

"I gotta know, though," he said. "How'd you do it?"

"I called in a favor," she said with a slight smirk. When Dick motioned for her to elaborate, she continued. "Last year when his computer crashed, I recovered the manuscript for his next textbook when no one else could."

"Shut up," Dick said, his respect for Mac rising to a whole new level.

"I also may have implied that, if it happened again—something I know how to make happen—I might not be willing to fix it if he didn't give you a make-up exam."

Dick's mouth was open. After a moment, he asked, "And he wasn't mad that you basically threatened him?"

"I think he was more amused."

Dick stared at her.

"What?" she said.

"You're like the perfect girl," he answered.

She seemed slightly stunned for a moment, and then she gave him a solemn nod and said, "I like to think so."

He laughed and her face broke into a huge grin. A weird impulse rose up inside of him and he ruffled her hair. She pushed his arm away, still smiling, and he grabbed her again, turning her so they could start to head back to her car and go home.

Next Chapter: Dirty Sexy Math


	25. Get Lost and then Get Found

Mac tapped her pencil against the paper in front of her, thinking about irony. More specifically, how ironic it was that she was sitting here completely distracted during a final because she couldn't get her mind off of her roommate, whom she had just helped to prepare for his most important final.

More specifically than that, she was thinking about how ironic it was that someone like her, who never spent time on a playground as a child if she could help it, couldn't get her mind off of someone who had spent the better part of the last week trying to convince her that they needed to install a slide to go from their balcony down to the beach.

The girl in the seat next to her kept shooting her annoyed looks over her Tina Fey glasses, so Mac sighed and stopped tapping, putting the pencil down and pulling at the elastic in her hair to undo her ponytail. She leaned forward and wound her hands through her hair so that she could massage her scalp with her fingertips. When she hit a knot above the nape of her neck, she dug her fingers in and shuddered at the chill that ran down her back.

Shaking her head back and forth several times, and stamping down on the fleeting thought that she wished it were someone else's fingers in her hair, she cleared her mind of everything but the questions on the paper in front of her.

When she left the exam room half an hour later, Mac rubbed at her eyes and headed for the student union. She was treating herself to a soy milkshake (not an oxymoron, she kept insisting to Veronica) when she felt someone tug on her hair. She turned quickly and saw Wallace standing there grinning.

"You need another favor?" Mac asked with a strained smile. "And you complain about Veronica."

Wallace shook his head and tapped her forehead. "Use your brain, girl, I'm done with finals! I was just looking for someone to celebrate with, but if you're feeling all cynical and world-weary, I can look elsewhere."

"Sorry," Mac said as she handed over her Hearst card to the cashier. "Not so much cynical…frustrated would be the better word."

"You want to talk about it?" Wallace asked. They headed for an open table, Wallace nodding to Piz in the radio station booth as they passed. "Unless it's like lady troubles or something, then I don't want to know."

Mac shook her head as she slumped down into the plastic chair. "I've just been really distracted and I think I could have done better on my last final."

Wallace sat down and leaned over the table on his elbows.

"I bet you did better than you think," he said nudging her arm and giving her a confident smile. "The girls I roll with are all in the IQ exosphere."

Mac gave him a knowing look. "You just come from your astronomy final?"

"Aced it," Wallace said, holding out his fist, which Mac bumped with her own. "So what's distracting you?"

Mac took a long sip of her milkshake and looked around the room.

"I see," Wallace said, leaning back in his chair with an infuriatingly smug grin.

Mac smirked. "Oh, you do, do you? What is it you think you see?"

"You got a crush," he sing-songed.

Mac's mouth fell open. "Take that back, I do not!"

Wallace just laughed. "What's the big deal, Mac? So you like someone. It's a good thing." He chuckled again then turned more sympathetic. "Seriously, if you want to talk about it, I'm not bad at this stuff. I have references."

Mac gave him a dubious look. "Who?"

"Veronica. In addition to getaway driver, diversion expert, and lookout, I also act as sounding board for her non-job-related problems."

"Willingly?" Mac asked.

He laughed. "If she needs it, yeah. So what's the problem, you think this guy doesn't like you back or something?"

Mac put her forehead down on her arm. "I don't know," she said into the table. "I don't know if he…or if I should even…I mean…."

Wallace patted her shoulder. "It'll work out. And if not, that means the guy's just stupid and you know I will lay the hurt on him."

Mac lifted her head and gave him a wide, genuine smile. "I don't think a murking will be necessary. But I appreciate the thought."

"Anytime," Wallace said. He was about to say something else, but was interrupted by Piz sliding into the seat next to Mac.

"It's really starting to feel like the same three people are calling in to the show every time," Piz said with a sigh. "What's going on with you guys?"

"Not a lot," Wallace said. "Just talking about the man in Mac's life."

"Oh, that guy Dick?" Piz said. "You still living with him?"

"Uh, yeah, he is my roommate," Mac said, trying to sound nonchalant and slightly confused, as though the two men in question were not, in fact, the same person. She cursed her fair skin as she felt her cheeks heat up.

Piz was talking, but Mac concentrated on her shake. She chanced a glance up at Wallace and saw that he was staring at her with surprise evident on his face. She quickly averted her eyes.

When she looked up again, Wallace was still looking back at her, but he had a small smile on his face. Mac couldn't tell whether he was amused or pleased. After a moment's reflection she thought it might be both.

"—So I think if we could find a place, living off-campus would be crazy awesome for next year," Piz finished.

Mac hadn't been listening, but she nodded, tracing a crack in the plastic table with her fingernail.

"Yeah," Wallace said. "That could be cool. I was just telling Mac how she should hold onto that house she's in." Mac looked up and Wallace gave her a significant look. "'Cause when you find somewhere you fit in, you gotta stick it out, you know? No matter what other people might say about it."

"What, because she's living with a guy?" Piz said. "I don't think people really care…"

Mac and Wallace both ignored this.

"Thanks, Wallace," Mac said. "I don't know if it's that simple, though."

"You'll figure it out."

"Well, either way," Mac said, "you can definitely add me to your list of references."

The nice moment passed and Piz began to extol the virtues of the new bands he loved. Mac let her mind wander. She was thinking about the last question on her final and how she could probably convince her professor to give her partial credit when her cell phone began to buzz on the table. She grabbed it and swiveled it open to see a text from Dick.

"I'm bored. Come home now please."

Mac grinned involuntarily and looked up to find Wallace trying to suppress a smile of his own.

"You gotta go?" he said.

"Yeah, gotta get home and make sure the man of the house hasn't burned it down," she said, hopping up from the table with a wave for Piz and a wink for Wallace. "Talk to you later, guys."

"Good luck," Wallace said as she walked away. "And remember, if any guy tries to play fast and loose with your heart, you just send him my way."

"Marshmallow!" she called over her shoulder. He clutched a hand to his heart and made a wounded face, but a second later it was replaced by a wide smile.

* * *

"Dick?"

Dick sat up on the couch in the master suite as he heard Mac's voice calling him from downstairs.

"Finally!" he yelled. "Did you bring me anything?"

"Why would I bring you something?" Mac asked as she entered the room.

Dick looked at her from his spot at the far end of the couch. "I told you I was bored. I just assumed you would bring me something to entertain me."

"Next time, be more specific," Mac said as she dropped her bag next to the couch. "Plus, what form of entertainment could I have brought you that you don't already have?" she asked, gesturing to their shelves full of movies and video games.

With a somewhat ungainly jump and swivel, she landed on her back on the couch, her head resting next to Dick's lap and her legs dangling off the end of the couch.

"I guess you have a point," he said. "What were you doing?"

"I was hanging out with Wallace. Well, and Piz, too, I guess."

Dick laughed. "He really makes an impression, doesn't he?"

"What were _you_ doing?" Mac asked, craning her neck to look back up at him.

"Nothing, duh," Dick said.

"Well, what do you want to do? Game of Halo?"

Dick shook his head. He was feeling restless, twitchy, unsettled….

He looked at the girl lying down next to him. He knew what he _wanted_ to do, but she was looking up at him with such an expression of complacency, he didn't see how he could just lean down and mess it all up.

"Did you get your macro grade yet?" she asked, tilting her head a little more and in doing so pressing it lightly against his leg.

"No, your buddy said he was going to post the exam grades outside his office sometime this week and then email that and the final grades out later."

"Hmm," she said, her eyes falling shut as she shifted and got comfortable.

"No, don't sleep," Dick said, flicking her forehead. "Entertain me!"

"Why does everyone keep doing that today?" she asked. She dragged her eyes open and pursed her lips. "Do we have any marshmallows?" she asked.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the sun was hanging low on the horizon and Mac was walking out onto the beach with an armful of supplies, including ingredients to make more s'mores than she thought they could ever eat. She put her stuff down and looked up to see Dick heading back toward her from down the beach, carrying several pieces of driftwood.

"Don't we need a permit for this?" Mac asked.

"Permit, shmermit, it's our beach," Dick said, dropping the wood and digging a shallow pit to put it in.

Mac giggled. "Shmermit?"

Dick crooked an eyebrow at her and she shrugged. "I'm a little slaphappy," she said. "Running on like four hours of sleep."

He pointed an admonishing finger at her as he kicked the wood into the pit and pulled a lighter out of his pocket. "You should have followed your own rule and gotten lots of sleep before your test."

Mac put her hands on her hips. "Says the guy who slept through his."

"Touché."

Mac spread out the blanket that she had gotten from the trunk in the living room and sat down Indian-style on top of it. She had already plugged her iPod into the house stereo system and now she grabbed the remote and hit play, hearing the first song of her favorite playlist begin over the speakers on the deck.

"Did you get sticks for the marshmallows?" she asked Dick just as he was about to join her.

"No," he said.

"Will you?"

He looked at her with dropped shoulders. "Are you serious?"

"I'm already all situated," she said.

He sighed and threw his head back, then jogged a ways down the beach to where he'd found the wood for the fire.

"Thank you!" she called sweetly.

She turned back to look at the fire and dug her feet into the sand in front of her. It felt deliciously cool around her bare toes.

It reminded her of Dick.

She pictured the crowded beaches she'd gone to with her family as a child, and the beachgoers who would hop on their toes across the scorching sand, looking like fools in order to minimize the time they come in contact with it. During the day it was unpleasant and intense. But at night, she mused, when far fewer people come into contact with it, it was completely different: soothing in a way that's hard to imagine when it's burning your toes off.

She shook herself.

"Slaphappy," she muttered. She slipped a square of chocolate in her mouth and was humming along with a Guster song when Dick trudged back over with two long sticks in his hand.

"Here you go, your majesty," he said.

"Why, thank you," she said. "Although now that I think about it, we probably have skewers or something in the kitchen."

Dick glared down at her. "Woman, you are going to be the death of me."

She just grinned back at him and patted the space next to her on the blanket.

He maneuvered himself into a sitting position, his feet splayed out in front of him, practically touching the fire. Mac now had her legs tucked up against her chest, and she picked at the purple polish on her toenails.

"This is nice," she said after a few quiet moments. Dick looked over at her with a look she couldn't decipher. "It reminds me of camping with my family," she explained.

A slow smile spread over his face, and Mac felt a correlating sense of certainty and comfort creep over every inch of her body.

* * *

It took approximately sixteen minutes in front of the fire for Mac to fall asleep. She'd talked drowsily during that time, and Dick had listened carefully, eager to hear about the childhood she was usually so reserved about.

When her eyelids began to droop and her words slowed, Dick scooted closer to her and angled his body so that she could rest against him. She did so without complaint, but Dick couldn't be sure that she was still aware of what was happening. Their friendship had never included cuddling before, and Dick spent the next few minutes wondering if she had taken that step consciously or not. He stared at the fire and out at the water beyond it, letting Mac's music calm him, only hearing a few lines from every other song.

_You belong with me, not swallowed in the sea…_

Her marshmallow-laden stick had fallen into the flames when she succumbed to sleep, and he drew it out and tossed it a few feet away. He kept his own stick nearby in case she wanted to try again when she woke up.

_You will shelter me, my love, and I will shelter you…_

She was wearing her dirty old faded jeans and a red t-shirt, and her short sleeves allowed Dick to see the goosebumps on her arms. Doing his best not to jostle her, he reached out to grab the extra blanket she'd brought out. He wrapped it around her, and then carefully positioned himself so that she was cradled against him again.

_Be my friend, hold me; wrap me up, enfold me…_

The restless feeling from earlier that day was completely gone, and he wondered if, the next time he felt it, he should just ask his best friend if she wanted to curl up next to him and sleep for a while.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so I decided to move, and that's part of the reason this chapter has been such a long time coming. Also, I added in some stuff and then had to edit it. (In case you didn't notice, this chapter is not the promised "Dirty Sexy Math"—I had to push that one back a chapter.) I know—excuses, excuses. But, I'm hoping to have the next chapter up much more quickly, and it's a big one. You might even say it's THE big one.

I'm a little melancholy that this story is almost finished, but I'm going to push past it and post the last few chapters as quickly as I can. On that note, I'm wondering if anyone would be interested in reading outtakes from this story once it's completed. Tentatively titled "The Oddtakes," they would basically be short scenes that didn't make it into the story, and they wouldn't necessarily be posted in order. This would allow me to add bits and pieces to the story after the fact, without really affecting the plot-- just something I thought of while contemplating how much I don't want the story to end.

Finally, the lyrics at the end of this chapter come from the following songs, respectively: "Swallowed in the Sea" by Coldplay (from which the chapter title comes), "Shelter" by Ray LaMontagne, and "Breathe Me" by Sia. The scene seemed to merit some mood music, so I stuck them in there.

That's all for now. As always, please let me know what you thought—I treasure every review this story gets.


	26. Dirty Sexy Math

Dick's eyelids were starting to feel heavy as he sat surrounded by heat from the fire and from the small body tucked next to him. His chin dropped forward to rest on the top of Mac's head, and he slept fitfully, dreaming of telling her how much she meant to him. Dream-Mac just suppressed a laugh and walked away into the skinny-armed embrace of a faceless guy in the distance. He twitched awake, and then resolutely kept his tired eyes open and tugged Mac just a little bit closer.

He let his hand wander to where her hair fell near her elbow and played with the ends gingerly. At that moment, like an alarm telling him he'd overstepped his bounds, Mac's cell phone rang and broke the peaceful quiet of the music and the waves. She shot upright, rubbing at her eyes with one hand, the other automatically reaching out in search of her phone. Dick found it behind her on the blanket, and handed it to her.

"Hello?" she said, her throaty, sleep-filled voice sounding hopelessly sexy to Dick. "Hey, girlfriend," she said with a smile, which quickly fell from her face at the reply she got. "It is?" she asked. "Yeah, hold on." She turned to Dick, looking nervous for some reason. "It's for you."

He took the phone from her with a questioning look. "Hello?"

"Hey, man, it's Wallace."

Dick's confusion grew. "Hey…" he said.

"Mac told me you're waiting to hear on a grade—for macro, right?"

"Yeah…" Dick said, looking at Mac for assistance, but she just shifted to her knees and watched him carefully.

"For Brooks' class?"

"Yeah," Dick said, feeling impatience join in with his confusion.

"Well I'm over by the econ building now, and the grades are posted."

Dick's heart stopped in his chest for a minute.

"Are you serious?" he said. Mac's nails were digging into his arm.

"Yeah, you want to give me your ID number and I'll tell you what you got?"

For a short second Dick balked at the idea of Wallace being the first to know whether or not he would be failing out of college. They weren't exactly BFFs. But he had to know.

"Yeah, it's 847-07-342."

Wallace repeated the numbers slowly as he checked the list. Mac was staring at Dick with huge, hopeful eyes, and he quickly stood up to get away from them, unable to think about how they would look if he failed.

"Found it," Wallace said. Dick squeezed his eyes shut.

"Make sure it's mine before you tell me," he said.

Wallace read the number back to him and Dick said shakily, "Yeah, that's it, what does it say? You can just say 'sorry' if I didn't pass, I don't need to know the grade."

"That won't be necessary," Wallace said.

Dick tried to ask for clarification but just made a strangled noise instead.

Wallace told him his grade.

Dick managed a "Thanks" and hung up.

He turned around to face Mac.

He was frozen for a moment and then a huge, nearly painful grin split across his face.

"You did it?" she said breathlessly.

"A-minus," he said, in the same slightly disbelieving tone of voice.

Her shriek broke the trance he was in and she ran at him, arms open. He met her halfway and grabbed her up in his arms, crushing her to him and lifting her off the ground, and suddenly everything everything _everything_ was right with the world.

Her fingers were clutching at his back and her feet were dangling a foot off the ground, and she was telling him she knew he could do it, and when he pulled back to see her, her pride in him—in _him_—was written all over her face.

And then he was kissing her. He was kissing her, the way he should have been every day for who knows how long, fiercely and urgently, hoping with everything in him that she wouldn't push him away. His heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest when, after a few seconds, he felt her move her mouth slowly against his and bring her fingers up to twist in his hair. Her lips were salty from the sea spray and sweet from the chocolate, and since two of Dick's favorite things were the ocean and sugar, he took it as a sign.

He loosened his grip on her, just enough so that she slid down his front. His fingers fell to her hips and a groan fell from his lips.

Dick totally got it now, why Logan was so hung-up on his first kiss with Veronica. Dick had never in his life felt what he was feeling at this moment, kissing Mac on the beach outside their house. It was nothing like his first kiss with Madison (ninth grade—Logan's house—awkward, clumsy) or with Gia (Enbom's birthday party—the Grand—not as awkward, just as clumsy).

But now Mac was jerking herself away and staring at him with pink cheeks and wide eyes. He felt the ground rush back up at him. Mac blinked once, then three times in quick succession. He grabbed her hand to keep her close, his mouth open as he tried to find the right words to say.

"Don't," she said softly, regretfully. The word hit him in the chest like a mallet.

"Why not?" he asked hoarsely, his breath coming in harsh pants. She turned her head away, her eyes darting wildly around the beach. He squeezed her hand and regained her attention.

"Why did you do that?" she whispered, sounding pained.

"You know why," he said, his voice lower and rougher than normal. He took a slow step forward. "Look, I know I'm an ass, but we're great together, Mackie."

"You're not an ass," she said.

"Then what is it?" he asked.

Mac took a step back and her hand slipped out of his. She looked down at the sand. "You're not…choosing me, you're settling for me."

"Dude, I'm a Casablancas. I don't settle for anything." His voice got a little softer with his next question. "Why would you think that?"

"Because, Dick, I've seen the girls you date," she said, her eyes never leaving his feet and the flush on her cheeks spreading to her neck. She sighed. "This isn't you really liking me for me—this is you not seeing any other girls since I moved in here."

"Did you ever think about why I haven't seen any other girls? Ever since we started hanging out, I haven't cared about any of them. I just—" He set his jaw and pushed a puff of air out of his nose. "I just care about _you_."

"So you're saying if Melinda had wanted to get back together with you, you wouldn't have done it?" Mac challenged.

"Melinda _did_ want to get back together with me," Dick said. "She basically came over because she wanted to hook up, but then she was jealous as hell when she saw you and me together, and she tried to get me back."

"But, you didn't…?"

"No, I didn't," Dick said firmly.

She frowned and, looking confused, turned and headed back into the house.

"Mac," Dick said quietly, causing her to pause for just a second. Dick walked over and turned her around by her shoulders, then stepped in close to her, shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead into her hairline. When she didn't move away, but instead made a soft sound—half-sigh, half-whimper—he shuttered his eyelids and ghosted his lips across hers, making her mouth chase his. They teased each other for a few more seconds, his thumbs running over her collarbone and her fingers creeping up the line of buttons on his shirt. Finally, Dick gave in and, with a tilt of his head, kissed her deeply.

* * *

Mac had lost track of time as soon as Dick first kissed her. She was consumed by the feel of his blunt fingertips tracing over her cheekbones and the way he breathed out her name next to her ear. When she gathered the presence of mind to step away for the second time, she had no idea how long they'd been standing there. She looked down at her bare feet then back up at him.

"I'm still not sure this is such a good idea," she said carefully. It hurt her to say the words, but if this was just a passing fancy to Dick, she'd be saving herself a lot of hurt later on.

She knew herself well enough to know that she needed him, and if they crashed and burned….

Dick frowned down at her, looking a little wounded. "Well, let's use some of that math you like so much." He grabbed her hand and led her inside and into the dining room, where he picked up his calculator. "Okay," he said. "You know we get along like a house on fire."

"Yeah," Mac stammered, "but…_fire_."

"Exactly," he said, undeterred, punching random numbers on the calculator.

"Last week I slapped you!"

"And you know I think you're awesome and funny and nice?" Dick continued as though he hadn't heard her, still jabbing at buttons.

"Well, yeah…" Mac said, biting her bottom lip to keep it from curving.

"You're clearly a miracle-worker, because I, Dick Casablancas, just got an A-minus on a final," he said.

She shook her head. "You did that, not me," she said.

"You say things like that," Dick said, pointedly adding more numbers to the equation. Mac couldn't keep the left side of her mouth from curling up into a smile.

"Okay," he said. "And you know I think you're insanely hot?"

She ducked her head bashfully and jerked her head once, even as she saw in the wall mirror that the redness on her neck had spread to her chest and turned splotchy. When she looked back up at Dick, she was stunned to see nervousness on his face. He inched closer to her and said quietly, "You know I'd do anything for you."

The simple sentence hit Mac like a paralytic in her blood stream. She stared up at him, completely still except for her chest, which was racked by her unsteady breathing. Finally she regained her faculties enough to murmur, "I know."

He looked at her with unabashed want in his eyes, and his upper body swayed toward her, seemingly of its own accord. Then he blinked and his expression cleared, and he appeared to remember where he had been going with the calculator thing.

"Okay then," Dick said, putting in the final data. "Times that by 100…hmmm, better make it 1000. And would you look at that," he said, holding the calculator up for her to see. "That equals, you should be my girlfriend."

He was staring at her, openly and earnestly. Mac stared right back.

"Dick," she began, before she realized she had no idea how to respond to such a declaration. After several seconds of silence, his hopeful smile faltered and he nodded slowly.

"Okay," he said, and picked up his keys as he headed for the door.

This snapped her out of her stupor and in an instant she had darted around him. He stared at her, a frown set on his face. She reached out a tentative hand to his shoulder, then stood on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his. She pulled back, smiled, and kissed him again.

Dick's fingers were in her hair a half-second before his keys hit the floor with an echoing clank. His nails scraped along her scalp, and Mac struggled to keep her knees from buckling. As it was she let out a cry that surprised the both of them. Dick arched his head backward, checking for a problem, and Mac smiled sheepishly. Dick chuckled before diving in to kiss her again, more sweetly than Mac would have guessed he knew how to.

Some time after that, their mutual not-so-sweet natures started to take over and Mac let out a moan as Dick pressed her against the island in the kitchen. He smiled against her mouth and lifted her by the waist until she was sitting on the island and he was leaning into the cradle of her hips. Mac giggled and held him tighter.

"Damn, Mackie," Dick said a moment later when he broke away to take in a deep, ragged breath. He grinned at her and she gave him her biggest smile in return.

"Well," she said. "This changes the landscape a bit, doesn't it?"

"Changes how?" Dick asked. "You're not going to move out, are you?"

"No," Mac said. "I'll figure out how to handle my parents. The fact that they even got me out of here last time was a little ridiculous," she muttered, while Dick nodded his agreement. "But what I meant was, things are different now."

"Captain Obvious, is that you?" Dick said.

Mac pinched him and he chuckled. "Actually, what I was going to say was, things are different, so we have to make sure nothing is different."

"Oh, Sergeant Obtuse, I thought you were my friend Obvious."

"Clarification: Just because of whatever this is—"

"You being my girlfriend," Dick said.

"Right. Just because of that, it doesn't mean we're not going to stay in our own rooms at night, and we're going to treat this like a normal relationship, even though, you know, it's not. We should probably go on dates and stuff, too."

"Sounds good to me," Dick said. He raised an eyebrow. "You gonna put out after these dates?"

"Well, obviously, that depends on where you take me," Mac said with a 'duh' look.

They both laughed, heady with this new twist. Dick's grin softened to a smile with such affection in it that once again Mac couldn't find her voice to speak. Instead she wound her fingers into his surprisingly soft hair and dragged him to her for another kiss.

Next Chapter: The Burdens We Bear

* * *

A/N: Ta daaaaa…..well, here is a chapter I know many of you were anticipating. This one gave me a lot of trouble, and because it's such a pivotal chapter I had a hard time deciding when it was finally done. Anyway, I hope it didn't disappoint.

I want to say 'good eye' to Poisoned Princess, who pointed out that as a vegan Mac probably wouldn't have eaten s'mores in the last chapter. Also, I hope nobody thinks it too unrealistic for Dick to get an A-minus on a final…I figured that if he really were putting in the time and the effort, he deserved a high grade. It also might just be because I love him.

There are two more short chapters after this, which will likely be posted on the same day at some point this week, possibly even this weekend. And then my friends, we've reached the end. Except for maybe the Oddtakes.


	27. The Burdens We Bear

"Dude!" Dick shouted into his phone the next day. "I passed my class with hovering colors. Grab Ronnie and get over here, we're having a barbecue to celebrate the end of the semester."

"Does Mac know she'll be playing hostess?" Logan asked.

"Uh, yeah? Now get over here, and bring your own damn hot dogs."

An hour later, he opened the front door to see Logan holding several packages of uncooked meat and trying to help Veronica as she crabbily navigated the front steps on her crutches.

"Nice," Dick said, taking the frozen hot dogs and burgers from Logan. "We're almost out—I already had three burgers. Come on back, I'm grilling on the lanai. That's another word for patio—I learned that from Golden Girls."

He turned and was on his way back to the deck before Logan or Veronica had even said a word. They looked at each other and Logan stepped forward, making sure there was nothing in the way as Veronica swung herself forward, moving quickly to keep her balance.

"Here you go, Ronnie," Dick said once they reached the patio. He'd pulled one of the deck chairs around to face another one so that Veronica could prop her feet up. She raised her eyebrows and said, "Thanks."

Logan helped her sit down and then settled himself in the seat opposite her.

"So," he said as Dick returned to the grill. "How's life?"

"Pretty damn good, my friend. You?"

"Same. Nice apron," he commented as he crossed his legs leisurely in front of him.

"Thanks!" Dick said, looking proudly at the apron, which said "Let me out!" on the chest with an arrow pointing down. "Me and Mac found it in a maternity store."

"Why were you in a maternity store?" Veronica asked with some alarm.

"She saw a shirt she liked when we were walking by," Dick said with a chuckle. "She was pretty embarrassed when she realized what store we were in."

"Where is she?" Logan asked. "I want to mock her for it."

"She had to go pick up one of her papers on campus, but she'll be back soon."

"You should really do something nice for her, you know," Veronica said. "As I understand it, she was pretty instrumental in you passing your macro class."

Dick grinned over his shoulder at her. "Don't worry, I've taken care of it," he said with a wink.

Logan and Veronica exchanged a look. "Well, that was sort of ominous," Logan said, and Veronica nodded.

"I'm back!" they heard Mac call from inside the house.

She bounded out onto the terrace and went straight for Dick.

"Hey, baby," he said, giving her a smile and a quick kiss. "Made you a soy burger."

"Fantastic, I'm starving," she said. "Hey, guys," she said to Logan and Veronica, who remained silent. "What's with them?" she asked Dick.

Dick glanced back over his shoulder to see Logan with his eyebrows raised and his lips pursed as if to hold back a smirk, and Veronica with her mouth hanging open.

He shrugged, unconcerned.

"Do you guys want something to drink?" Mac asked brightly. "We've got soda, juice, water, or I can make some iced tea?"

"I'd love some iced tea," said Logan, who was now grinning widely. "Sugarpuss, would you like to help Mac and I'll be manly and help Dick with the grilling?"

Veronica nodded mutely. She got up and hobbled into the kitchen, shutting the door when Mac came in behind her. Logan was immediately at Dick's side.

"So," he said.

Dick glanced sideways at him, a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on his face.

"How'd you do it?" Logan asked, beaming at his friend.

"Kissed her," Dick said simply. "She was helpless to resist me."

"Nice," Logan said. "The grill went out," he observed.

Dick got that gleam in his eye that always let Logan know that some sort of destruction was imminent. "Let's relight it, Dick and Logan style," he said, one hand on the bottle of lighter fluid.

In the kitchen, Veronica was standing by the door, leaning on one of her crutches, still shell-shocked.

"What's going on?" she asked slowly.

Mac grinned at her from her position at the kitchen sink. "What does it look like? I'm making iced tea."

"Cute. Now seriously, as your best gal pal I command you, dish."

Ma's smile grew even wider on her flushed face. "Dick kissed me. We talked. Realized we're really, really good together. So we are."

"What?"

"Together."

"Wow," Veronica said. "That was the worst dish ever. Come on, woman, I want details!"

"You seriously want to know?" Mac asked.

"Uh, yeah?!" Veronica said.

"You're not appalled and disappointed in my taste?" Mac asked suspiciously.

"Well, I could tell you about how dangerous it could be to date your roommate, but I'm sure that I wouldn't be telling you anything you don't already know."

"That's the truth," Mac said. "I instated a 'we sleep in our own beds' policy, among others, but I don't know how long I'm going to be able to follow my own rules."

Veronica laughed lightly. There was a dull roar from outside, which they ignored.

"I'm happy you're taking this so well," Mac said, turning back to her drink preparations.

"I'm not as narrow-minded as you think I am, Mac," Veronica said, pressing her lips together. Mac looked over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. Veronica sighed. "Okay, if this had happened at the beginning of the year, I probably would have had a stroke."

"Again, truth," Mac said.

"But now," Veronica continued. "I see it."

Mac's hands stilled over the pitcher. "Really?" she asked quietly.

"To be honest, I've seen it for a while," Veronica said. "And now you're finally dating your jackass."

They turned and looked out the window at their boys. Dick was frantically beating Logan's arm, where some sparks were still visible. Both girls smiled affectionately.

"We better go make sure they both still have eyebrows," Mac said.

"The burdens we bear," Veronica said with a shake of her head.

"Are totally worth it," Mac said.

Final Chapter: The Odd Couple

A/N: One thing I want to point out before the next post: the word "gynoid" (it means female robot—like a lady android) is used in the next chapter, and for a later joke to make sense it has to be pronounced with a "j" sound; i.e., "ji-noid" instead of "guy-noid." Apparently both pronunciations are correct, but when you're reading, just keep the "j" one in mind. It might just be my childish sense of humor, but I find the later play on words very funny. You'll see what I mean. I hope.

Also: holy crap, final chapter!


	28. The Odd Couple

Dick hummed to himself and drummed a beat with no rhythm on the steering wheel of his truck as he turned onto the long ocean-lined avenue where he and Mac lived.

Mac had found out he hadn't been to the doctor in a way long time—"How could they let you start college?" she'd demanded, to which he responded, "How could they let me _into_ college?"—and had immediately set up an appointment for him. Now he was on his way home with an ache in the crook of his arm and a lollipop that he didn't believe was going to soothe it.

As he made his way closer to the end of the street, he saw his neighbors pulling into their driveways as they returned home from work. Then he saw his own house, unforgivingly blue against the neutrals that ran down the rest of the street. He glimpsed some bright yellow, too, so he guessed that Mac had gone out and bought those flowers she'd been wanting to plant.

He didn't bother pulling into the garage, because he had a strong feeling Mac would want to go out for ice cream later. He could have parked in the driveway, but it was currently occupied by his roommate-girlfriend. She was an island of pretty in the middle of a concrete lake, and he didn't want to disturb the picture she made.

He parked his truck and flung the door open with such vigor that it bounced back and whacked him on his side. He heard Mac snort, which he took to mean she was in a sassy mood, and he walked around the hood to get a better look at her. She was barefoot, as she always seemed to be when they were at home. She stood with one hip jutted out, wearing a pair of blue cotton shorts and a baggy old t-shirt with a picture of Einstein on it.

"Honey, I'm home," he said, sauntering toward her and admiring the way the fading sunlight framed her from behind. She tilted her head and smiled at him, and Dick thought to himself that Veronica, self-proclaimed master of the head-tilt, should really take lessons from his girlfriend.

"Hello, dear," she said playfully, then winced as she heard herself. He reached her and leaned down for a kiss. "Hey, do me a favor and reassure me that we're not like all the other robo-families in the 09er zip," she said.

He inspected her thoroughly, picking up a hank of her hair and playing his fingers over it. "Well, I don't see any pearls, fresh-baked pie, or deep-seated resentment, so I'd say we're safe," he said.

Mac smiled up at him sweetly. "The day you see me in pearls, you'll know you're living with a gynoid."

"I'll have to take your word on that one," he said with an answering smirk. He mostly didn't even pretend to understand her fancy words anymore—what did it matter, he figured, as long as he understood _her_? "So, what have you been up to?"

"Getting the neighbor kids all hopped up on pixy sticks," she said.

Dick looked up and down the street and saw more than one harried mother trying to pull her screaming, resistant children inside for dinner.

He turned back to Mac and, with a growl, snatched her up in his arms, making her shriek and lock her ankles behind his back.

"You're so minxy," he said with a huge grin.

"I don't think that's a word," she said, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as she leaned in for another kiss. "And whatever, their moms have made it pretty clear they don't approve of me," she said as he walked toward the house with her still wrapped around him.

"Well, then they're just stupid ginas."

"Gyn_oids_," Mac corrected.

"I know what I said."

Mac laughed out loud and rested her head on his shoulder. Dick congratulated himself: from sassy to deeply content in 60 seconds flat. He rubbed his fingers over the small of her back (one of his very favorite places) and she hummed in pleasure.

"Hey, know what I was thinking?" he said.

"What?" she said, as he jogged up the front steps and made her laugh delightedly in his arms.

"We should get a fireman's pole for going from upstairs to downstairs with the greatest of ease."

"What is with this strange aversion you have to stairs?" Mac asked.

Dick shrugged. "Don't know. But hey, bonus, it could double as a stripper pole."

"I'm not stripping for you, Dick."

"Who says it would be you stripping?"

Her soft laugh echoed off the walls of their house as the door shut with a soft click behind them.

* * *

A/N: I cannot believe this story is over; it seems like it's been lifetimes since I started it. I'm not sure what else to say, except thank you to everyone who read and reviewed, it made the whole thing worthwhile. Keep an eye out for the Oddtakes, and thanks again!


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